


The Coyote God

by DrunkOnFaerieWine (RowanRiordan)



Series: Tales of Aria [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cannibalism, Everyone Is Gay, Lots of it, M/M, Racism, Unfinished, godfic, i wrote this in like ninth grade, its good though, lots of gay, maybe ill finish it someday, this is all original world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 49,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanRiordan/pseuds/DrunkOnFaerieWine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieh was born with a god inside of him. After meeting Mai, he's told he's supposed to become Shi'a, his people's trickster god of war. He's supposed to save his people. </p><p>Only, he's not willing to sacrfice who he is to become who he has to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was younger, ninth grade. It has some elements similar to The God Eaters by Jesse Hajisek, however it diverges near the beginning and becomes something... more complicated. It's a good story, but I'm not sure where it was supposed to be going. The chapters never had names but I'll name them. Enjoy.

He felt dirty. Defiled. Raw. Cut open for all to see. Sewn shut the wrong way. Monster. Disgusting beast. Dark. Brown. Unworthy to walk this earth. He was a disgrace to his mother, to his people. He was a disgrace to himself. Something foul, something found on the bottom of one’s shoe. He wished to be punished, punished simply for living but that would be counterproductive. He wished to live, simply because he was afraid of dying. A coward. His mother would be shamed.

The stranger pushed him away, tossing copper at him as he retched and spat on the ground. His fingers pined for the small coins, scrapping against the hard cement, cracked to the point of bleeding as he scrambled after the measly pieces of copper that destroyed his life daily. The stranger laughed, kicking dirt at him before he left him alone in the dark alley. One of the coins slipped precariously down a rain grate and he cursed loudly, cursing the whole damn world as one more piece of freedom slipped away. He reached his hand down as far as it would go into the grate and only came up with muck. Thunder rumbled overhead. He cursed the weather and his mother too.

 

The pub was dim and loud, raucous music playing and men shouting, laughing gaily and arguing in drunken stupor. The barmaids were busty, gingers, falling out of their dresses and sloshing mead into most every cup. The air was hot, thick with alcohol and sticky. The floors creaked so much it was just white noise now. Half the chairs wobbled and most the tables were stuck back together with glue. Rotting game heads were stuck on the walls, fur matted by the heat and glassy eyes watching every occupant with the upmost care. The booths in the back were cramped, seats of molding cracked leather and tables either wobbly or lopsided. He took a seat in the farthest one.

A round woman with a pudgy red face, gray streaked cornflower hair and sharp gray eyes came to see him, her bulging body wrapped in a grease stained apron.

“You can’t work here, kid.” She said, her voice hoarse as if she’d just been yelling. He shook his head, digging around in his pockets.

“Don’t want to.” He replied meekly and placed a cricket on the table, silver coin shining. She frowned, sticking a thumb in the belt of her apron and sighing. She scraped the silver off the table and left him in a haughty silence.

He stretched his long, rangy limbs out in the booth, bare feet on the opposing seat, though legs bent because of the lack of space, arms sprawled high behind him. Green eyes scanned the place. Most of the men here had used him. Most of the women envied or pitied him. The round woman was bitching to her boss about him. Everywhere was the same. No one wanted the native boy ruining business, showing up on a train two years ago and too broke to leave. Sixteen and a man to his people know he was still just a boy to them, working the streets harder then any of the barmaids here, and still he made no money. Hunger and need emptied his pockets, desperation filled them again, greed made him try to hoard it but kindness made him give it to the beggar girl down the way. And still he pined for more, for a chance to leave, go south again where the money was good and every other person had dark skin. Get a job on a reservation, farming or something, anything, anything but what he was doing now.

The round woman came back with a cup of mead and a tin plate containing half a loaf of bread and a green tinged piece of congealing meat. No fork. No knife. He didn’t complain though, just smiled at the woman as she left. He wrote a glyph into the table with his finger, thanked the gods for the food, and then broke the bread, shoving it into his mouth. It tasted of sawdust and had just about the same consistency. The meat was chewy and felt like gel on his tongue, tasted bitter but not rotten and filled his stomach. The mead chased it down with a subtle burn. He leaned back against the creaking leather chair again, licking crumbs from his fingers. He brushed them through his thick ebony locks and scrubbed the side of his face.

A man across the room was eyeing him as he played tiles with another, his opponent severely overweight and sagging out of his chair, swaggering, not doubt reeking of alcohol. The man though, he’d seen him before. Working the streets and praying up at the temple. He was a ginger, gray eyed like the rest of them, skinnier then a pine sapling and freckled. Dirty, but not as dirty as him, had clean stains all around his mouth, either from drink or work. His hair was matted into thick patches on the top of his head and stringy dreads down the sides. He placed another tile on the table and the obese man he was playing cried out ruefully, slapped a note onto the table and lumbered away. The man stood and sauntered over. He looked up at the ginger, a little contempt on his face.

 “I’ll teach you how to play.” The man smiled slightly and he shook his head.

“Don’t want to know. Gambling’s a sin.” The man cackled a laugh like a hyena.

“Then life’s a sin. Come learn something, boy.” He stood up, rising much taller then the man and narrowed his eyes.

 _“I’m not a boy.”_ He hissed in the language of his people and stalked out of the pub, disgust rising in his throat. When did whores start picking up other whores?  The man followed him out, but lost him in the shadows of the alleys. No one knew the alleys like he did.

 

 Rain dripped through the tarp that separated the crates he lived in from the outside world and onto his face. He hissed, shifted and scratched his stomach, glancing around. The sun was shining, fog burned off the skyline sending a chill through everything. No more thunder, but the sky was a sickly gray. Water dripped onto his hip and he cursed, grabbing his grubby blankets and pulling them over him. He wasn’t the prettiest whore in the world, but work didn’t start this early. Water dripped on him again and he cried out again, startling the rats that lurked around near by.

Stumbling out of his ramshackle lodging he relieved himself in a trash can near by and then went searching for his shirt. Once white it was now stained by grease, sweat and dirt. His trousers were thread bare cotton and browned by filth, but he didn’t care. Every part of him was filthy, even his soul.

The ginger was working his alley. His eyes narrowed to green slits and he snarled, shoulders hunched, stalking toward the idiot. The ginger saw him, jumped and stiffened, gave a weak, half-assed smile and sped across the street, away from him. No one wanted to mess with him. Half the city was afraid of him and he didn’t even know its name. He leaned against a rust stained light pole and flipped a cigarette, waiting.

Another day gone and only three crickets to show for it. A train ticket down to Merle was eight and he wanted to go all the way to Silver River. Two _mints_ away. He never got a note. How was he supposed to get a mint? Getting into the Southern Province was a totally different issue as well. With no passport, no formal identity he’d either have to sneak in like he snuck out when he was twelve, though that was pure luck, or sell a contract to some ginger down there. Or a blonde. He shivered at the thought. Easterners. The one thing he hated more then northerners. Southerners he could handle, they liked natives, or at least they were used to them. But easterners. He didn’t even want to think about it.

He walked down to the train station in the dark to look at the ticket board. Twenty crickets would get him to Sawtooth. Eighteen to Maya. A mint to Red Ridge. He sighed. A mint to Red Ridge. And Silver River was twenty miles south. A mint to Red Ridge. He scratched his head and tossed his hair. A mint to Red Ridge.

 

The temple was quiet, a cave built into the side of the mountain with three hundred stairs carved up to it. A small alter was left there, adorned by pass offerings, mostly by heathen gingers. Some kept they’re ways from Eivana. Other’s had went into the native cultures. He just worshiped the gods the women at the mission had taught him. Leave the devil-worship to the Orthodox bastards.

A filled the water basin with rain water dripping from the cracks in the stone and added a feather to the east side of the stone table. Drew a glyph in the center plate with a piece of charcoal and lit the incense, then walking over to the rock fall to find himself a good stone. He picked up a piece of sand stone hidden among the granite and returned to the table, setting it to the south. Then he sat down, cross legged and pressed his hands together in front of him, head bowed, breathing deeply.

He sat that way for a while. Just sitting, darkness enfolding his mind, floating in nothingness. Then came soft whispers, whispers of song and of voice, deep and rich, ringing in the soft language of his people. It swelled, beautiful, filling him with warmth, ruffling his face with sweet breath and caressing his skin with placid touches.

_Uwana’waya Tamina_

_Uwana’waya To’m’ia_

_Uwana’waya Shi’a_

_Uwana’waya Mo’nia_

They chanted, over and over, the names of the gods, over and over. It made his heart sing as the visions started to dance behind his eyes. Dark skinned people, dancing, voices pounding, around a great fire. It licked to the heavens, crackling praise as their feet pounded the earth, drum beats filling his ears, the chanting song flowing over him, casting him from his body and into the dancing, pounding circle, throwing his hands up and flittering around the great fire, the chant pulled from his chest as he joined them, a hundred thin braids dancing around him, bound by red leather straps as he threw his head back, howled to the moon, sang to the heavens and to the gods, to the spirits of the earth. Pride filled him, over took him, made him whole, filled him with a sense of belonging, of family.

Then he was laying in a field of fire colored blossoms, black eyes staring back at him from their sun shaped heads, green fronds waving around him like a sea. Someone laid next to him, broad hands traversing his chest, soft lips caressing his ear. He felt like he’d been to this place before, had this person next to him. The sun beat down on them, but was not too hot, like a warm kiss on his skin, haloed in the clear blue sky. Blue mountains rose up out of the flowers far beyond and agave and juniper made groves off to the east, where desert sprawled to the west. He could hear water somewhere, slow rolling waves crashing softly against rocks, lulling him. He knew this was his home, his place, and the person next to him was the only one he shared it with. But he was lonely. Or his partner was. Or they both were. They knew they were the only one’s here, and it made them sad. His partner cried because of his loneliness, even though they had each other. So he made more for him dark skinned people who card for his flowers and were shaded under his trees. And his companion was happy. They all were.

But then evil came. It came out of the mountains like a white cloud, burned his flowers and cut his trees, caged his people and killed his companion. Drove him far away, far into the darkness. And then he was alone again. Alone, and filled with hatred, a hatred so passionate that it burned his bones and rotted his flesh, seared away all that was and replaced it with something new. Something cold and hateful. Something so dark it wasn’t beautiful anymore. Only frightening. He tried to go back, but the white cloud had devoured all of his power. Left him hopeless, a burnt out shell. And so he wept.

 

When he woke from his visions he was laying sprawled on the floor, gasping, his fingers grasping at something he couldn’t see, so filled with sorrow and anger and hatred, but mostly pain. He pained for the companion that had been killed, the people caged and flowers burnt. It had all felt so real, like it had actually happened, like it was actually his to remember. It was a memory of his ancestors, he was sure, because all visions were, but that one in particular, was very old. And very sacred. He could still taste the wind on his tongue, pure, sweet, filled with sea salt and desert dust and the fragrance of the fire blossoms. He could still feel the broad hands on him, covering his heart, feeling it beat, the soft lips on his ear.

Something moved and he was bolt upright, hating the way his sweat stained clothes scrapped his skin. Rain pattered outside the cave and the wind snuffed the incense, leaving the pungent scent of patchouli in it’s wake. The thing shifted again, hiding in the shadow of the rock fall. Lightning flashed, illuminating the ginger man from before. Thunder rumbled like the rage in his heart. Gray eyes were wide and flashed with fear.

The scent of sweat and human musk soon over took the incense as they were locked, frozen, staring each other down. He was angry, enraged, but something held him in his place. The ginger had defiled his privacy. Sure, it was a public temple but it was custom to leave and return later if someone was already there. He couldn’t lunge though, or else he would have, and taken out all of his anger at the white cloud on this man. He’d defile a holy place with this man’s blood. He’d make him a sacrifice to the gods.

Lightning flashed again and the man bolted, scrambling over the rock fall for the cave entrance. He sprang after the man like a mountain lion after a goat. His long body, packed with sinew, stretched like an uncoiling spring, caught by the flash of light, his arms reaching out, fingers like claws, face contorted in feral concentration, legs propelling him forward. He spanned the distance between him and the man, arms grappling with the man’s legs sending him sprawling, limbs akimbo, nose bashing into the cold stone, blood spurting. The sight of it, red on the gray stone, made his heart race, his nerves tingle. He leapt onto the man, who twisted to face him and grinned, showing each one of his white teeth all the way to his gums, green eyes like wild fires. Then he pulled his knife and began to cut even before the man could scream.

 

When he woke up again he was back in his ramshackle of crates, his shirt soaked with rain water, not sweat, and blood splattered onto the corner. He ripped that part away and looked at his pants. Stained maroon with blood. He sighed and pulled them off, turning them inside out to see what that did. Better, now they just looked rusty brown. He crawled out of his den and into the alley. No blood stained footprints leading to where he slept. Good. Town was quiet, but he could hear noise somewhere else, farther away. He left the alley, padding on bare feet, looking up the mountain. There was a congregation of people up at the temple, lights flashing, shouting and sirens wailing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the man’s note, along with seventeen crickets. A mint. Sitting there in his hand. A mint. He smiled and turned back to his alley.

He gathered his things, which consisted of his knife, a silver locket, a picture of a dark skinned woman he’d been told was his mother, his cross from the mission for pretenses, a wind knot pendant that had been his fathers and a jug of water. He wrapped it all in his blanket and slung it over his shoulder. He collected the rest of his money, twenty seven nuckles and two crickets and left, flipping a cigarette as he did. This wouldn’t be the last man he’d kill. And unbeknownst to him, it wasn’t the first.

 

~*~


	2. The Blond Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters will get names in the next chapter I think. Also, my ninth grade self was stupid. The italics are them talking in this native tongue, the non-italics are talking in the 'english' of their world.

The slow lulling rock of the train threatened to put him to sleep. He refused to sleep though. He just wouldn’t. He leaned back in his seat, trying to spread out his gangly brown limbs but it just didn’t work. There was too much of him and too little space. He sighed and stretched his arms over his head, listening to his back and shoulders pop. Sniggering caught his attention.

There was a little round boy sitting down the aisle from him, staring at him over the seat while his mother read a delicate looking magazine. He sniggered again, his pug nose scrunching up. He just stared at the boy lazily, wondering what he found so amusing. Probably his dirty face or his torn clothes, or simply the fact that he was a native alone on a train. He didn’t really care but something about the boy’s quiet amusement made him loath him. He couldn’t be more then seven years old, not old enough to know why he hated the natives or where that hatred and amusement came from, but he still followed the blind example of his peers. This made him seethe inside. It made him want to tear the boy apart and splay his entrails out for the gods. He wanted to do that to all gingers and blonde haired easterners. He wanted to kill them all. He wanted to rid the world of their filth. But he stayed seated on the train instead.

“Loathing is a sin.” He muttered, just loud enough for the boy to hear. He gasped and clutched the silver cross around his neck, grey eyes wide. He smiled his full toothed grin at him, eyes wide and gleaming like fire.

“Do you want to go to hell?” He leaned forward, his voice a slow hiss. He licked his lips and the boy squeaked, slumping down into his seat and burrowing into his mother.

“Mama that darkie’s scarein’ me!” He wailed, hiding under her arm. She shot a backward glance at him, eyes narrowed, full of hatred but he just leaned back in his seat like nothing had happened.

 

After a while the stewardess went up and down the aisle and he bought a loaf of bread just before the train whined to a stop at Merle. He made note that the town he’d come from was Trine and to tell anyone who asked that he was from Merle and had never been to Trine. They let on passengers, then lurched forward again. He didn’t pay much mind to anything but the scenery as they left. All blue rock out there, mountains, goats hopping from ledge to ledge, leopards stalking them all the way. A ginger with a sheep herd coming down the pass. Nothing special.

The doors rattled open at the front of the car. He looked up without meaning to and was stopped in his tracks, figuratively. An easterner was there, tall and blonde, all legs and arms and perfectly defined abs. Big hands, soft, pale skin; no doubt he had sparkling blue eyes peering out from behind the dark glasses he wore. His torso was covered by a vest of light colored fur which hung open to reveal the flat plains of his chest. His legs were hugged by tight breeches of tan leather and dark leather boots that reached almost to his knees. A rifle was slung over his shoulder and a knife was tied to his belt. He carried a pack over the other shoulder that had bundles of fur tied to it. Dark brown, light, dusty white and red. Elk, mink and fox. Probably from farther up north. This man was a hunter. And to complete the hunter image he was followed by a massive black dog with gleaming yellow eyes. Yellow enough to match the swatch of beautiful blonde hair that fell over his forehead and down his neck, short, but not too short. Not quite shoulder length either. There was a tiny braid just beyond his left eyebrow and a jay feather was woven into it.

The man took the seat across the aisle from him, ordering the dog into it first while stowing his pack and furs into the catch. As he stretched up the vest parted with the hem of his breeches to reveal a slab of taut muscles leading down to his very tight, very round ass. He swallowed, trying to push down his growing arousal. He _hated_ easterners. Why was this one so attractive? As the man sat he studied the angles of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the soft curl of his dark lashes where they cradled his eyes, so blue he could see now passed the man’s glasses, blue like the clear sky, like the surface of a lake, so blue. His lips were soft, full and pink and his chin was sharp, strong in a subtle way, but not wide and squarish like most easterners. He didn’t have their blocky sea side build either, nor their broad face or meaty hands. He was lanky, yet defined, bands of muscle rippling through his arms and legs and across his chest. But he was slim, not robust like most with that sort of muscle and was all limbs. There probably wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man and nothing about him was square. He was beautiful.

The man glanced over to catch him gawking and smiled. He lowered his glasses with one slim finger and winked. He sucked a sharp breath, his cheeks flushing and looked away almost immediately, arranging his arms in his lap in a way that would hide his reaction. The man gave a smooth chuckle, like a stone sliding over ice and when he glanced back the man was absently petting his canine and staring out the window. Those eyes had been so beautiful.

They wound through the mountains like a snake through grass, the train at its lulling rock, ever so often a whine or whistle would escape but nothing more. The world passed by in blue, blue rock everywhere and blue sky. Nary a cloud to be seen and the only other color there was was the green of the grass that sprang up between rocks or the white of a goat or leopard. He heard the man sigh once in his conversation with the woman who was sitting in front of him.

 “I wish I had time to hunt up here.” He said with a razors-in-velvet voice. The woman gushed something and he chuckled.

“I have to get back home. Trade my furs and come back this way again. But they always want mink and fox in the east and elk on the res. No one’s in the market for leopard unless you go way down south. Silver River’s a good place but that’s bad news for someone like me.” His laugh seemed bitter this time.

“Someone like you?” The woman mused and the man tilted his glasses down at her, giving her an award winning smiled.

“Someone mixed, I mean.” He replied and the woman gasped. He did too but he kept it quiet. Mixed? This beautiful man? A native by blood? No, his mother was probably eastern, went on vacation and got mixed up with a vagabond from one of the reservations. This meant he wasn’t native. He was just some poor mixed eastern bas-

 

“My mother was a Moondancer. Dad came now south hunting. Fell in love with the tribe princess and never left. Not until he died when I was seven.” The man made him eat his thoughts. His mother was Moondancer. It was almost instinct to snarl. His own mother had been Suneater, sister tribe to the Moondancers. He hated that he felt kinship toward this blonde mutant. The woman seemed to be both surprised and disgusted.

“You get your looks from your father?” He asked and the man glanced at him.

 “I do. You get yours from yours?” He shook his head.

 “ _Both_ my parents were dark skinned.” The man snorted.

“And that makes you better then me? Can you use a knife? Shoot an antelope from horse back with a bow? Fight off a wolf with your bare hands?” His eyes widened and he grit his teeth.

 “I can recite the commandments, all the tenets of God, every passage from the Holy Book and baptize a child without waking it.” The man suddenly looked sorry for his words and looked away from him, his flaming green eyes.

  _“I’m sorry.”_ The man murmured and he just shook his head.

 _“Don’t worry about it.”_ He replied, turning away in his seat to stare about the window.

 

It was dark by the time they reached Maya. The woman shuffled off the train with her boy and a balding man took the front seat. The stewardess came by and he bought another loaf of bread, as did the man. They sat in silence. He watched the moon rise, waning now, and it stirred a desire in him. Last night he’d killed a man. Tonight he loathed a man. Tomorrow night… who knows? His palms itched with the need and he glared at the no smoking sign at the front of the car. He shifted in his seat, standing up and holding onto the back of the seat in front of him, stretching his shoulders, his back, his legs up, arching on his tip toes and shaking his tired eyes.

“Wow, you’re tall.” The man whistled, looking him up and down. He scoffed.

“I’m also filthy. Stop looking at me. You’ll defile yourself.” The man laughed.

“You sound Orthodox kid.” He hissed angrily, ripping the cross from his neck.

“It’s pretenses! I hate them! I hate them all! I want the old gods back!” He was suddenly sobbing, curling in on himself, clawing at his face. Pain writhed in his gut, infected his heart and tore at his mind. He wanted his companion back, he wanted his field of flowers and dark skinned people, everyone so happy and loving. He wanted the world to be bright again. He wanted the white cloud to go away, everything white and garish and glaring to leave. He wanted to crush the blue mountains under his feet and send all the gingers back to Eivana. He wanted the easterners to go back east, across the ocean to where ever they’d come from and he wanted his people to be free again. But most of all he wanted the pain to stop.

 

He gasped, realizing his emotions and stopped. The flowers weren’t his. Nor was the companion or the people or the sea or the mountains or the desert or any of those things. The pain was not his, nor the loneliness. None of it was yet he felt is so passionately. It ripped apart his chest, forced sobs from his throat and tears from his eyes and rage from his heart. Made him want to lash out and kill the man, but couldn’t, because he was a Moondancer. His brother. And he cursed himself for it.

“Are you alright?” He looked up at the man from where he’d hunched on the floor and shook his head, tears streaming.

“No. _Pain. In my heart._ ” He felt the man’s hand on his back, the slow humming in his chest, the words that flowed from his lips brought him back to that time.

_Uwana’waya Tamina_

_Uwana’waya To’m’ia_

_Uwana’waya Shi’a_

_Uwana’waya Mo’nia_

They brought back the fire and the chanting, the people dancing, him dancing with the people, but now the man was there too, throwing his head back and crying out with them, howling to the moon like a wolf in august, shaking himself this way and that, jumping with the beat of the drums. He danced with the man, just the two of them, moving under the autumn moon, so full, filling them with pride and lust and love for the gods and for each other. They fell away from the fire in a tangle of limbs and heated flesh, hearts pounding to the beat of the drums.

Then the man was his companion, lying with him in the flowers. Only different. His face was softer, his eyes lighter. His hair was long; reaching far passed his waist and was braided in three braids, tied with green cord. His own hair was braided, though in a hundred inch thick braids as custom to his people and tied with red leather. His hands were large and placed at the man’s sides, his smile reflected in the man’s eyes. The man’s hands were soft, running along the smooth plains of his chest. He reached out and plucked a fire blossom from it’s stem and tucked it behind the man’s ear, smoothing his hair as he went. The man blinked affectionately at him, leaning closer, his lips pursed in anticipation-

He woke with a startled gasp. He didn’t want to continue. He knew what happened next. They grew lonely. Created the people only to be caged and killed by the white cloud. The man slain by the white cloud’s hand. He himself cast into darkness, despair, pain, hatred. He didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to see that. He looked up at the man, tears that had dried on his face now freely flowing again as the sun peaked over the horizon. He could see him as he saw the companion in the visions, slain, laid open on the dusty ground, entrails rotting in the hot sun like a buffet on display for the vultures. Blue eyes popped like cherries, black inky goo running down his beautiful face, soft skin melting away to reveal seared bone. Their hatred had burned him from the inside out and their blades had cut him open for the world to see. And he didn’t want to see it.

 _“Stop. Please stop.”_ He gasped, one hand lashing out to knock the man away. The man, surprised, went sprawling back and the other man that occupied the space the dog once had growled at him, helping the man to his feet. A shape-changer. The shape-changer stalked forward, teeth bared, eyes narrowed, growling, but the man stopped him. He too was gasping for breath.

“Don’t, Jack.” The shape-changer stopped, looked at the man and whined along with the train as it pulled into the station at Yrbend. It lurched to a stop and the balding man got up and hurried off. The man watched him go, then stood and hugged the shape-changer, who slowly retook the shape of a wolf. It turned, growled at him and then shouldered it’s way through the car door and out onto the platform. The man watched it go.

 

They sat in silence for a while, just breathing, him shaking and the man too still. Then finally the man sighed.

“Where are you headed?” He looked up then back out the window.

“Red Ridge. Then Silver River.” The man snorted.

“Silver River’s all drug running and selling ass. Stay in Red Ridge. There’s honest work there.” He nodded slowly.

 “Where are you going?” The man turned his attention to the window.

“Back to the res, then down to Red Ridge for a while, then I’m supposed to meet Jack at Ev’an. Then we’re going west and back up north.” He nodded with this too.

“Could I… go with you?” The man glanced at him, then back out the window.

“To the res. Then to Red Ridge. I’ll help you get into the Southern Province. But I don’t think you should go any farther with me. What I do is dangerous.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Hunting?” The man chuckled.

“I don’t hunt just animals…” He raised both his eyebrows this time.

“You think I’ve never killed anyone?” The man looked at him, surprised. He glanced up and down the aisle. The stewardess was gone.

“Yesterday. In Trine. Slaughtered a man before the gods. He defiled my space, so I killed him.” He was surprised at how calmly he said it. The man’s eyebrows sprang up and then he nodded slowly.

“Heard about that. Ripped him to pieces didn’t you? Not very refined but… I’ll think about it.” He smiled and looked back out his window.

“Thanks.”

 

When he woke up again it was dark. Too dark. Pitch dark and he could feel the panic rising in his throat. He _did not_ like the dark. Not after the visions. He sucked in a sharp breath to scream but was silenced but a strong hand covering his mouth. He exhaled through his nose and tried to relax.

 _“Hush. They’ll find us.”_ The man’s breath tickled his ear and ghosted across his face. He glanced to his left and saw the man’s eyes, ghostly blue, illuminated in the darkness.

 _“You gonna be quiet?”_ He nodded slowly, his heart racing. The man slowly let go of his mouth, trailing his hand down his chest and resting it on his thigh. He tried not to react to that.

 

The car doors rattled open and three pairs of footsteps walked in. The man slithered off the seat like a snake and spidered underneath it, across the floor. He grabbed for his knife, hoping he’d be able to hit whatever came at him. The footsteps were coming right at him, he could feel their eyes one him, swallowing him up, forcing the darkness down on him under it was choking, smothering him, suffocating. It was going to kill him, he knew, and he’d die alone in the dark like he had in the visions. He wanted to cry out but no sound came. He wanted to rip the darkness away but it held him down. He wanted to be free but it caged him. He could feel himself lifting his knife, bringing it to his throat-

And then he plunged it into the heart of the stranger before him before his teeth could sink into the soft flesh of his neck. He howled in rage and joy, the blood running down his face where it spurted from the stranger’s throat as the body slumped lifelessly onto the floor. He could see now, their gray skinned faces and lanky clothes, thick frames and beady eyes. Stone people. He snarled in outrage. How dare they attack him! He leapt at the nearest one, ripping at it’s throat with his claws, sinking his teeth into it’s eyes. It screamed, high and hoarse as it fell and he fell on it, ripping it’s flesh from it’s bones. When he turned he saw only his companion and the limp form of the other stone person, blood running down it’s chin. His companion was smiling so he smiled back.

~*~


	3. Companions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay real names after this.

“I know your ticket is from Red Ridge but we’ll stop in Sawtooth.” The man said quietly, curling toward him. He rubbed down his yellow hair, watching the mountains pass by.

“I was raised in the mission there.” He replied quietly, resting his head atop the man’s. He didn’t even know the man’s name but yet here they were, wrapped up together in his blanket, lulled by the rocking of the train, the only two people left on the train beside the stewardess and the engineers. The three dead stone men still lay with their blood congealing on the floor. And yet here they were, cozy and contented together. They didn’t even know each other.

                                               

It was funny how it happened. After killing the stone men the man had left the car while he’d circled them like a kitten does a dead mouse, wondering why they no longer moved but not knowing what to do with them. His kills had been messy while the man’s had been clean, broken neck nothing more. He’d stayed on the bodies until the man had returned and the train started to lurch forward again. They’d almost leapt into each other’s arms, tangling themselves together on his seat. He’d wrapped them in his blanket and refused to let the man go. The man seemed perfectly happy with that, murmuring songs while they sat embraced on the seat until the sun rose high in the sky and they could see the foothills coming up and the blue rock giving way to dust rock, pines turning to palms and twisted agave. He could see Sawtooth coming around the bend, a sprawling metropolis now instead of the dusty back water town he’d known. The mission still stood high on the ridge, alone, like the shining white star that over looked the town, watching over it, keeping it safe.

This was illegal. The thought came to him out of nowhere. Them sitting like this, together happy, men. Illegal. The man shifted from where he was curled in his lap.

 “I know what you’re thinking. We’ve gotta move.” They both straightened up in their seat, sitting close to one another though, the man’s hand on his thigh and his head on his shoulder. He sighed, knowing this would only last a few more minutes until they’d have to separate again. He didn’t know when they’d be together like this again or even if they would. Maybe it was just the post-killing nerves that made them like this.

“The shape-changer…” The man lifted his head.

“Jack?” He nodded.

“Was he your…?” The man shifted uncomfortably.

“It gets lonely…” He nodded again.

“So he is?” The man shook his head.

 “We’re business partners. Sure we mess around a bit but he’s not my _shuntanka_.” He smiled at that and glanced back at the man. He was looking out the other window and then put his head back on his shoulder.

“Jack once said he loved me. I punched him for it. He never said it again but I don’t think he’s stopped loving me.” He laughed lightly, leaning against the man.

 “So he’ll be angry?” The man shook his head.

“Why would he be? It’s not like we’ve done anything.” His smiled turned into a grin.

“Yet.” He retorted and the man laughed outright.

 “I’m almost twenty years old kid. How old are you? Fifteen? That’s not even legal. Plus we’re men. So it’s even more illegal.” He snorted.

 “I’m sixteen. A man to my people and yours. Legality doesn’t seem to be stopping you now.” The man squeezed his thigh and smiled lightly.

“Just shut up, kid. Learn to respect your elders.” But they both laughed.

 

They finally separated when they pulled up to the station at Sawtooth. The white coated Officers were already there but they were checking the other cars first and talking with the engineers. They got up casually, stretched. He collected his meager possessions and slid them into his pockets, cleaned off his knife quickly and slipped it into his belt. The man gathered his rifle and pack along with the furs. They exited the train quietly unnoticed.

The man paid his way into the Province, telling the customs Officers that he was his property. They bought that and let them both through with just the man’s passport. Then they traversed the streets. The man seemed to know where he was going; only stopping to buy grain and water from a local vender before setting off in a straight line through the city.  Fours years had passed since he’d last seen this place and nothing looked familiar. They ducked down alleyways and crossed streets, heading in a perpetual straight line. No one worked the alleys here, nor the corners or pubs. One would be lucky to find a pub here. This place was too clean, too holy. It made him sick.

“Michael.” The voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned slowly, facing the priest. The gaunt, wrinkled face of his childhood now more gaunt and wrinkled, wispy white beard playing at the old man’s chin, hair still attempting to cover his head. Heavy black robes looked hot in the sun. There was a slight dark skinned girl at his side dressed in the white cotton dresses of the mission. He suddenly started to seethe with rage. This was the man he’d lived with for twelve years. The man that ordered his father dead and than raped his mother and him when he was old enough. Who sent him away from the safety of the mission into the wilds of the blue mountains, that had doomed him to end up in Trine as a whore until he’d killed a man to return here. This was the demon in his soul.

 “Wait.” The man grasped his arm, pulling him out of his rage. He’d taken three steps forward and his knife was drawn and the girl was cowering behind the priest. He ground his teeth together once and returned his knife to his belt.

“Later, then.” He muttered, turning his back on the devil-worshiper.

“You’re going to hell, Michael.”

 _“I hope Shi’a rapes you in Final Judgment just like you did to my mother and I you bastard!”_ It took all the man had to keep him from launching at the priest, who’d backed up, face drawn into frightened surprise. He spat at the priest, knowing both he and the girl knew what he had said. He turned away then, following the man back down the road. He could still feel the rage coiling inside of him, curling and uncurling in his gut like a troubled snake.

 

“Can you ride?”

“Ride what?” He asked without thinking. The man chuckled.

“Horses. Can you ride?” He nodded to the building in front of them. It was a decrepit looking old barn, fading blue in color with water stained wood beyond the chipping paint. The word ‘Livery’ was lettered on the sign but the L was missing and the V was hanging lopsided. There was a small corral off to the left where a thin looking buckskin mare and a frisky bay colt were nosing around in the patchy grass. There was a fine looking gray roan stallion tied to the post outside, tacked up in nothing but a red woven blanket and corded reins. He had a blue fire knot painted on his flank and looked angry.

“Oh. Uh, I never have…” The man chuckled, looking at the money he’d pulled out of his pockets.

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’. I only have enough money for one horse anyway. We’ll double up.” He smiled and tucked the money away in his pocket, striding toward the barn. A light mist had started, coming down from the mountains to pepper the trees and moisten one’s skin. He shook himself, trying to rid himself of the sticky moisture.

 

Two men came out of the barn, one stout and fat, balding under his wide brimmed hat and sun reddened. The other was a tall native man, handsome with sharp features and rich dark skin, his hair pulled back into three braids tied with silver cord. He had two tattoos on his face, one of four dots under his left eye in red ink signaling his age of twenty. The other was ten slash marks running along his cheek and jaw line on the right side of his face. The number of enemy warriors he’d killed. Both had expressions of delight on their faces and were laughing as they came out into the mist. Then they saw the man and him.

 _“Uwana’waya Mai?”_ The native man sounded surprised, his sharp eyebrows springing up. The man didn’t quite stifle his sigh as the other man strode toward him.

“Mai, is that you?” He flinched at the man’s barked laugh.

 “Of course it is, Ti. What are you, blind?” The other man, Ti, stiffened at the insult.

“It’s been many moons since you showed your face here.” He replied dryly. The man scoffed.

 “So far as you know.” He walked purposefully forward, shouldering Ti out of the way and coming up to the liver.

 “I need a horse.” He said sharply, then turned to look at him. He jumped and hurried after the man, no looking as the other native glared at him. Ti mounted his horse and wheeled it around, heeling it angrily out of the livery yard.

“What kind of horse?” The liver asked as they entered the barn. It smelled of hay and horse musk. The man was appraising a chestnut near by.

“Something strong. Do you have anything native perhaps? A Norki maybe?” The liver shifted from one foot to the other.

“There’s the colt out front and his sire out back.” The man looked to the liver expectantly, waiting for him to lead him to the horse. The man sighed and lead the way through the barn and out into the paddock. There were four horses there, all thin and sweating despite the rain. All of them were almost identical bays and were definitely not native.

“Over there.” Thunder rumbled somewhere and the horses scattered, revealing a stallion calmly grazing a short way off. He was long bodied with thick, strong legs and rippling muscles in his physique. He was healthy, with one of the longest mane’s he’d ever seen on a horse, his frock covering his eyes neatly and only exposing the tip of his muzzle, a white blaze to be seen there. Fur covered his strong hooves and his tail reached almost to the ground. He was the glossiest shade of black he’d ever seen with a marking that looked like a paint splatter of white on his flanks. He lifted his head at the sight of the three of them and nickered quietly, stamping his hoof. Then he returned to eating.

“We’ll take him. How much?” The liver looked startled.

“Um, but sir, that horse isn’t broken.” The man snorted and looked at the liver.

“Look at me and tell my I can’t ride a horse just the same as any of my brother’s down on the res.” The liver sputtered, even more startled as the man slid his pack off of his back and opened it, rifling through it for a moment before he came up with a red and green woven blanket not unlike the one the native man out front had had. He then produced a length of beige cord and started across the paddock. He followed behind him quietly.

 

The horse looked up at them when they approached and the man stopped as if waiting. The horse’s nostrils flared and he walked forward as the man extended a hand. The horse took a moment to snuffle the man’s hand, then his own when prompted by the man and turned to the side, waiting. The man calmly placed the blanket over the horse’s back and ran his hand up the length of the horse’s thick neck, a soft smile on his lips.

 _“Meiko… So black…”_ He muttered, coming to the horse’s face. He brushed away the hair to reveal a pair of big brown eyes, very placid as the man tied the cord into reins around it’s muzzle. It watched calmly, snorting once when the man tied the cord a bit too tightly and he went back and loosened it. Then the man calmly lead the horse back through the paddock and to the liver, who looked as if he was about to have a heart attack.

“How much?” The liver sputtered as the man pulled two notes out of his pocket and placed them into the liver’s shirt pocket.

“That should cover it plus a bag of oats?” The liver could only nod as the man tossed his furs over the horse’s flanks and laid his bag in such a way that would keep it from falling off. Then he led the way back through the barn.

“Hold him.” The man handed the reins to him while he went to scoop grain. The horse nudged his shoulder and he rubbed it’s nose gently, watching the liver sputter after the man.

“When are you bringing him back?” The liver finally sputtered. Then man weighted the oats and then turned, looking at the liver with a very serious expression on his face.

“I’m not. I paid you for the horse, not the time.” The liver sputtered after him as he walked back to the horse.

“But sir! That horse has never been ridden! How can you be so confident?” The man chuckled, stroking the horse’s neck gently.

“He knows his people when he sees them.” The man replied simply and then ordered him to come around the side to mount the stallion. He did and the man directed him on how to swing his leg over the horse’s flanks without kicking it and where to place his hands. Then he gave him a leg up onto the beast and he was surprise when he landed squarely on the steed’s shoulders and it kept perfectly still. The man threw the reins over it’s neck and then he himself mounted, reaching around him to grasp the reins. Then he turned the horse out of the livery yard and heeled it down the road. It took off like a shot and the liver yelled. The man cried out joyously.

~*~


	4. Names!

“So your name is Mai?” The man hummed, his chin resting on his shoulder as he leaned back against the man, watching the sky bob by and the tree tops sway in the slight breeze. Both were increasingly tired.

“No, it’s Matthew.” He snorted a laugh.

 “That’s a white person name.” He muttered, watching blue birds take wing from a near by pine and flitter across the sky. A deer watched them curiously from near by but didn’t spook and they paused to let a family of opossums cross in front of them. The man laughed too.

“I guess it is. Then yes, it’s Mai.” He smiled.

“Mai… I like it…” He murmured, the slow rock of the horse beneath him making him want to sleep, the rhythmic click of it’s hooves soothing.

“And what is your name?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Mai, who’d lifted his head from his shoulder to look into his eyes.

“Michael, so says the priest. But the women at the mission said my mother called me Kieh.” Mai rested his head on his shoulder again and sighed contentedly.

 “Kieh then…” He murmured, placing a small kiss on his nape that sent shivers down his spine. He sat awake for the rest of their journey, all too aware of how close Mai was too him.

 

They stopped at sunset, bedding down in a copse of agave not too far into the desert. It was already noticeably hotter here, but the temperature was dropping rapidly.  Mai built a small fire and they ate some jerky Mai had in his pack. Then Mai started spreading his blankets out as the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the desert from dusky red to deep purple.

Kieh glanced around then dropped his blanket on the ground and stretched out, looking up at the sky as the stars melted through the purple sky as it faded to black.

“What are you doing?” He glanced over at Mai who’d shed his vest and was tucked between two thick fur blankets.

“Laying here.” Mai snorted.

“No shit. Why?” Kieh raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, why? Because I’m tired.” Mai tossed back his blankets, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Then get over here, you idiot.” He arched an eyebrow and Mai harrumphed exasperatedly. He flopped back down and folded his arms a crossed his chest.

 “Make sure you take your shirt off before you get in here. It’s got blood on it…” He rolled over with his back to Kieh and sighed quietly. 

Kieh sat up, looking at Mai with a quizzical expression. He pulled his shirt off and looked down at it. Sure enough there was blood splattered down the front. He shrugged and tossed it aside. He looked down at his pants, which were in equally filthy condition but decided it would be awkward if he took those off. He simply scooted over and crawled into Mai’s bed pallet.

He’d barely pulled up the blanket when there was a flurry of movement and Mai’s hands were around him, his soft lips against his neck, skin against skin, electricity running through his veins and heat pooling rapidly in his loins. He began to protest and Mai hushed him, pushing him down against the blankets and straddling his hips, broad hands traveling over his chest and sides, heated lips against his own. His eyes widened at the tenderness of the touch. He’d only been kissed one other time in his life and that was by the mission stable boy, a little ginger with bright freckles and an adorable laugh. Of course he’d been caught with another one of the native boys and both had been killed for heresy. Kissing wasn’t really a soft spot with him.

Mai drew away, looking at him oddly.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, soft fingers caressing the side of Kieh’s face. He felt like his tongue had tied it’s self in a knot. He didn’t know what to say. Mai was beautiful and he was greatly attracted to him but it had been… forever since he’d been touched like this, with kindness, tenderness. He’d never felt like this.

“I thought you liked me…” Mai muttered, redness flushing his cheeks and tears glistening in his eyes.

“I do!” Kieh blurted at the sight of Mai’s sorrow. “I do! I just…” He reached up and rubbed his hand over Mai’s blonde locks, pushing them down. He guided him down and Mai rested his head in the hollow between his shoulder and collar bone, letting out a slow shuddering sigh.

“I’ve been used all my life.” He started, eyes locked on the stars. He could hear Mai’s sharp intake.

“It’s all I know how to do. The priest at the mission… He was disgusting, the most disgusting. Used me until things start’s getting suspicious and then tossed me out. I had enough to get to Trine but no farther. They don’t hire natives up there so I was stuck working the alleys at night and sleeping most days. For four years. I’m not used to… kindness.” He looked down at Mai and smiled, loving the way those blue orbs shone in the moon light.

“I’m just… afraid, I guess.” Mai stiffened, eyes widened.

 “Afraid of what?” Kieh looked back up to the stars.

“Getting attached. I don’t want you to leave me…” Mai shook his head, nuzzling into Kieh’s nape and sighing a little.

“I won’t leave.” He murmured, soft lips against his neck again, sending sparks through him. He shivered, releasing a shuddering breath, his toes curling. He gripped Mai’s hair in his hand, leaning into the other man and he felt Mai’s smile against his skin as his tongue flittered out to lap at the pulsing vein near his jugular. He gasped, arching his back, trying to push closer to Mai, a keening whine rising in his throat.

Soft finger tips ghosted across his chest, taking between them a dark pert nipple and pinching lightly. He bit back his gasp but couldn’t stop the moan that followed it as a leg slipped between his like a snake and slid up his thigh, applying pressure to his groin. His hands spasmed, grasping fistfuls of Mai’s hair and pulling the man’s mouth away from his neck and up to his own, crushing their lips together in a fevered kiss. Tongues battled and lips danced, saliva mixing and Kieh couldn’t stop another moan and was surprised at the delight that raced through him as Mai mirrored the sound. The man shifted over top of him and he brought his leg up between Mai’s legs in the same way he’d done to Kieh and Mai shuttered, releasing Kieh’s mouth to gasp and moan, his head dropping down next to Kieh’s on the blankets. Then in one simultaneous movement Kieh brought his hips up to meet the downward motion of Mai’s and their groins ground together. Kieh choked mid scream, pleasure shooting up his abdomen almost painfully.

Then Mai started to rock against him, grinding their clothed members together in such a way that had them both panting and groaning within seconds, mouths clumsy against one another, moans escaping when they could and fevered hands working to clutch at one another, to press them closer. Kieh’s hands found their way to Mai’s ass and squeezed. Mai cried out and buried his face in the native’s ebony locks, breath labored and fingers knotted in his hair. Mai rocked faster with Kieh’s help, grinding them together as the friction built in their loins and heat started to knot up in the stomachs. Kieh lifted his hips off the blankets and moved against Mai, rocking in counter time with the other man, causing the heat to coil faster, the pleasure to build, their cries to escalate until-

Mai’s cry was cut off as he pushed his lips against Kieh’s, smothering his gasp with his tongue that Kieh almost bit off as the climax rocketed through their bodies. They pressed so close to one another that it was almost as if their skin had melted together and they’d become one entity. The rode through it, breaths mingling and muscles slowly unwinding, slowly separating their sweat plastered bodies but only enough to shift into a more comfortable position. Mai nuzzled Kieh’s face and neck, a sort of contented purring sound coming out of him as he hummed and chirped, his hands running along Kieh’s sides, over each one of his ribs and his boney hips. He liked it, all of it. And Kieh wrapped his lanky arms around Mai and pulled him close, placing tender kiss across his bruised lips and reddened cheeks, thinking nothing more but _uwana’waya._ Beautiful. And then they both slipped into a soft, contented sleep.

~*~


	5. Conflict

He woke to the smell of sizzling meat. Sitting up he was greeted by the sight of Mai’s bare back, sitting cross legged by the fire, meat cooking on what looked like a flat rock. He was humming hymns quietly to himself, poking at the meat with a fork. The horse, which Mai had named Meiko for it’s dark color, was grazing near by, the furs already packed onto it’s flanks. It lifted it’s head at the sight of Kieh and nickered good morning. Mai jumped at the sound and his head whipped around, looking at Kieh wide eyed. Then the tension left his body and he smiled, leaning back to place a gently kiss on Kieh’s lips before Kieh could react, though his body stiffened, the shock of the tenderness still working it’s way out of his mind by the time Mai had moved back to the fire.

“You hungry?” Mai asked, sliding the meat off of the rock and onto a tin plate. He cut a piece of flatbread out of a near by pan where it had been cooling and held the plate out of the Kieh. The native smiled.

“Always.” He took the plate and offered fork and set into the meat, which he found was pork, no doubt from the Sawtooth market. He didn’t remember Mai buying any meat but then again Kieh’s mind was so preoccupied in the city that he didn’t remember a lot of what had happened there.

 

“I’m going to go look for water. I left my other pair of trousers there and you can use those. They’re fitted to me so they’ll be a bit short on you but they’re better then what you have on.” Kieh looked up from his food to see Mai standing over him, dressed in only a pair of tight dark colored breeches, darker then the ones he’d worn the other night. He was pointing to a pair of tan cotton trousers sitting next to the pack. He then turned and trotted over to where Meiko stood grazing and mounted the horse in one fluid movement, disappearing into the agave like a ghost. Kieh gapped after him. Without his boots on he was as silent as a leopard on a mountain peak. Graceful. Beautiful. His heart throbbed oddly as the image of Mai’s departure burned into his mind and he wondered what it was that he was feeling. He tried to shrug it off and keep eating but his heart was pounding too fast.

He’d just pulled the trousers Mai had left him up when the sound of approaching hoof beats alerted him of visitors. Mai still hadn’t returned and he tucked his knife into his belt, just in case. He turned to see four men emerge from the trees on horses not unlike Meiko, though two chestnuts and two bay. Three mares and a stallion. The stallion snorted angrily. The man who rode it looked equally angry. He was dark skinned, his hair dull black and braided into three braids, tied with silver cord. He has an ugly scar running from his left eyebrow to the bridge of his nose. Five red dots under his left eye said he was between twenty-five and thirty years old and numerous slash marks cut into the right side of his face and down the side of his neck, marking the men he’d killed. Kieh appraised him scornfully, his tan tunic under his worn leather vest, tan leather trousers and beaded moccasins. This man slipped off of his horse gracefully, along with the other three men, but he held himself arrogantly and this made Kieh want to kill him. He found him disgusting, a disgrace.

“Who are you? Why you here?” The man’s Eivanian was poor it seemed.

 _“I’m simply here. Heading to the reservation and then out into the desert.”_ The man raised a questioning eyebrow at his smooth speech and snorted.

 _“You aren’t Minakoko. What do you want?”_ He only shrugged, glancing around.

 _“My companion wishes to trade. I only follow orders.”_ The four three men laughed, a younger one, hardly sixteen, stepped up.

 _“The only traders that come through our villages are pino. White.”_ He rolled his shoulders, shaking the cricks out of his body. His hips were sore. These men meant nothing to him. He wished to paint his face with their blood but thought that unwise.

 _“My companion is white, but he’s one of the people. Leave me alone.”_ He turned away from them, being to gather up the blankets on the ground and roll them up, stuffing them into the pack which widened to hold them. He glanced back at the four which were cautiously shifting back and forth, talking quietly. He picked up his discarded thread bare, filthy clothes and appraised them. Deeming them too disgusting to try and save. After emptying the pockets and filling the ones he had he tossed them in the fire which roared at the offering. The smell of burning cloth and blood filled them air. Without thinking he grinned the full toothed, wide eyed grin of feral pleasure at the sight. Then he turned back to the men.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” He barked and they looked startled. The man in the front pulled out his knife, a long, curved blade that looked to be stone sharpened but was metal. Not steel, but something else. He just laughed.

 “You can’t hurt me. Leave.” The man snarled.

  _“How dare you! Pino’arkanin! Telling me to leave on my own land!”_ The man lunged, lashing out with the knife. Kieh batted him away easily, grasping his wrist and twisting it backwards with surprising strength for his emaciated form. The man gasped, cried out and dropped the blade in his hand, trying to twist with Kieh’s savage arm to lessen the pain. Kieh flicked his wrist and listened to the other man’s pop painfully, the full toothed grin pained on his face. He wanted to watch this man suffer-

 

Something sharp hit him in the back of the head and he gasped, seeing sharp spots, white stars dancing in his vision. He released the man and staggered forward, then back and dropped to his knees, gasping, fighting the pain. It _hurt._ He half wondered who’d hit him. The other half wondered when the pain would stop. All of him wanted to hurt who’d did it.

 _“Beautiful Mai…”_ He heard the man murmur and saw red. He ripped the knife from his belt, slashing out at who’d hit him, catching the cheek of his companion with the tip and watching it blossom red. He grinned, but it was angry, fury in his flaming green orbs and his companion gasped, eyes widened like blue saucers. Then he took a deep breath, straightened up and tucked his knife into his belt. He dusted off his hands, fought the temptation to swoon and hefted the pack and strode to the horse, Meiko. He calmly tied the pack to the furs already there and turned back to Mai. His brows knit together at the sight of the blood trickling down his cheek. He wanted to lick it. Had he done that? He didn’t know.

 _“Beautiful Mai…”_ The man repeated, accepting Mai’s offered hand after he’d shaken the bewilderment from his face. Kieh snarled and went at the man but Mai’s hand stopped him.

“You’ve done _enough,_ Kieh.” His tone was tired and irritated. Kieh looked at him, confusion buffeting him. What had he done? He frowned, a little hurt inside and slunk back to where Meiko stood, brushing his hands over the horse’s strong neck. It nickered at him understandingly and nudged him with it’s nose.

 

Mai talked to the men for a few moments before they mounted their horses and heeled out of the small clearing, leaving dust in their wake. Mai turned to Kieh then, his features weary.

“Why’d you do that?” Kieh frowned.

 “Do what?” He reached out and wiped blood from Mai’s cheek with his thumb then pressed it to his mouth. Mai’s blood tasted salty and sweet at the same time, with the subtle tang of rust and copper. Mai just gapped at him.

 “Fine. Be that way. But if you made Marin angry and he won’t let me trade it’s _your_ fault.” It was Kieh’s turn to gape. He shut his mouth and frowned, setting his jaw as Mai mounted. He mounted behind him and Meiko started off at a trot in the direction the men had gone.

Kieh gradually found himself wrapping his arms around Mai’s waist and Mai leaning into the embrace, letting Kieh lick his wound. He shivered and moaned at this kind of touch and it made Kieh’s heart jump. He smile and nuzzled Mai’s neck and He could hear Mai gritting his teeth against another moan, his brows drawn together. He was still angry.

“What did I do?” His voice was a pitiful whine. He hadn’t wanted it that way. He didn’t really care as long as Mai answered him. He listened to Mai’s stifled sigh and whimpered. Mai glanced at him, his eyes pained.

 “That was Marin’s arm you twisted. He’s chief of my tribe and… he was my lover.”

Kieh didn’t notice his growl until Mai jumped. He forced himself to stop and buried his face in Mai’s nape. Mai brought a hand up to rub his hair comfortingly.

“It’s okay. I hate him too.” Kieh nodded slowly.

“What happened?” He asked, glancing up at Mai’s blue orbs and then away to the desert around them when Mai looked at him. It was hot but he didn’t mind being close to Mai, there was a slight breeze and the ground looked smooth, not crackled. It had rained recently some part of his mind told him. A lizard scrambled out of Meiko’s way and onto a rock, flickering its tongue at them. Kieh was half tempted to stick his tongue out in retaliation then laughed at himself. 

“What?” He jumped, startled at Mai’s voice.

“Oh, uh, nothing.” He replied awkwardly. Mai just sighed.

“They ran me out when I turned sixteen. Marin became chief in my place since he was my _shuntanka._ My mother was princess, so I was next in line to be chief and the Elders baited Marin into courting me. They didn’t expect him to actually fall in love with me. I hate him for letting them drive me away. He should have fought for me…” Kieh could feel himself snarl.

“Yes, he should have.” He replied and Mai smiled.

“After my father died they found out my mother had consummated with him and I was the subsequent product. They hated her for it. Even her father. The Shaman still liked me though… Shan was always nice to me…” Kieh squeezed him reassuringly and he turned his head to place a gentle kiss on Kieh’s lips.

“Am I your _shuntanka_ now?” He asked quietly and Mai started, causing Meiko to jump forward and forcing the man to yank back on the reins. The horse snorted and nickered in protest, continuing on at it’s lazy gait. Mai sighed and glanced at Kieh, then glanced away.

“I don’t know…” Mai replied honestly. Kieh nodded.

 “I do care about you though! Just not in… that way… yet…” Yet sounded hopeful. Kieh simply kissed Mai’s neck and released him, leaning back. He was sweat slicked from sitting that way for so long and relished the breeze that passed over his bare chest. He sighed gently.

“I care about you too, Mai.” He said quietly, letting the breeze carry his words up to the gods and knowing it was true in his heart.

 

~*~


	6. Preperations

The village was wide, centering around one central fire pit for rituals. The houses were run down adobes with palm slatted roofs. Women sat outside many of the huts, weaving baskets or cleaning meat, patching clothes and blankets. Young girls sat next to their mothers to watch while young boys simply lounged, not yet old enough to join the hunt. Younger children still ran about shrieking in delight as they played, most nude. The women wore dresses or skirts and tunics while the boys were mostly bare chested with tan or leather trousers hugging their youth. All of them watched as Mai and Kieh passed, now on foot and leading Meiko by the reins.

“My hut is this way…” Mai muttered as they emerged in the center of the village, leading his down dusty lanes toward a small abandoned looking hut with the cloth door hanging down lopsided. Mai tied the horse to the post and ducked inside for a moment. There was a sound of shuffling and of something being moved, a short grunt and he returned with two saddle packs. The horse snorted at the extra weight but didn’t protest. Mai rubbed his neck.

“It’s okay. We’ll be off with these furs in a few moments.” He murmured and gave the steed a small scratch under the chin. The horse whuffled his hair affectionately.

Mai turned, hands on his hips and appraised Kieh.

“We need to get you some clothes of your own. A bow… can you shoot? A hunting knife… the one you have is good for fights but not for skinning.” Kieh nodded slowly.

“I’ve never used a bow but I can learn.” Mai nodded and smiled, sidling over to him and wrapping his arms lazily around his neck. He sighed and rested his head on Kieh’s collar.

“I hate it here…” He muttered, exasperation in his voice. Kieh reached up and rubbed his hair down, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“We’ll leave soon.” Mai nodded and sighed deeply before releasing him. “Help me with these furs…”

He had twenty elk pelts wrapped up into a bundle that Kieh hefted while Mai carried the forty or so mink and fox furs. They headed down the rows of houses and passed many village women who either stared at them or called friendly hellos to Mai.

“Where are all the men?” Kieh asked curiously and Mai shrugged.

 “Either out hunting or fishing down at the lake. On a day like this I’m surprised the boys aren’t out making trouble.” He smiled quietly, running a hand through his hair. Then he looked at Kieh and grinned.

“I’ll take you down to the lake later and we can go swimming. You know how to swim right?” Kieh smiled.

“Of course.” He neglected to mention, though, that he was terrified of water. Mai’s smile was enough to stop him.

“Is Nani here?” Mai asked as they approached a rather large dwelling with a young girl sitting outside of it, weaving on a hand loom.

“She’s inside.” The girl muttered, not daring to take her eyes or fingers from the loom. Mai smiled and glanced to the door when a tall robust woman with gray streaked hair came bustling out.

“Mai! You’re late you bastard!” Her Eivanian was crisp, if not foul. She spat on the ground and glared at him with sharp dark eyes. Mai just shrugged, grinning.

 “So sorry, Nani. I was… distracted.” He threw a backward glance at Kieh and he could feel himself flush. Nani just scoffed.

“Get in here you heathen…” But she said it with affection and Mai flashed her a fond grin.

The hut was dark and cool without windows, the only light flittering in from the slated palm roof. There was a bed pallet in the corner, a wash basin and sink looking fixture off to one side and an dye stained table in the middle of the room that was so worn the surface was as smooth as a virgin’s cheek. The walls were riddled with little shelves and alcoves filled with various good. Bags of grain and oats and flour were stacked in the corners and jerky was made into packets and placed on the shelves. An array of clothing was folded and set out along one wall along with beautifully dyed and woven blankets, Spools of thread and cord and leather were all balled together in one corner and four fine long bows stood against the wall along with quivers of stone tipped, palm shafted arrows. An array of long and short bladed knives was set atop one shelf and piles of antelope fur lay lumped up next to the bed pallet. The woman gestured to the table and Mai set down his furs there, so Kieh followed suit. There were three chairs thankfully and they all sat down.

“Is this fox, Mai?” Nani asked as she picked up an onyx colored pelt to examine.

“It is.” He replied and she smiled.

“These are wonderful. The mink is perfect for Talu’s robe…” Mai raised a questioning eyebrow, glancing around.

“Talu? Where is he, anyway?” Nani smiled sadly and ran her fingers over one of the elk skins.

“He lives with Ti now. His _shuntanka…”_ Mai’s eyes widened considerably.

“You didn’t give him away did you?” Nani scoffed at him and kicked him under the table, causing a sudden growl to rise out of Kieh. She eyed him warily and then looked back to Mai.

“No, he chose it. He should be fishing right now, if you want to go talk to him.” Mai looked to be contemplating this.

“I think I will… You know what I need. Get Kieh some clothes too, and I could use another pair of trousers… Two bows and a knife for him… Another skinning knife too. Mine’s getting old.” Mai stood and Nani nodded. He looked at Kieh then who was about to stand but he waved him away.

“Milo will bring you down to the lake when Nani’s done with you.” Kieh nodded slowly and Mai leaned over to kiss him. He felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment even before the man had pulled away and it continued after he sauntered out. Nani was appraising him with a critical eye.

“So…” Nani stood up and walked around behind him, her hand trailing over the back of his seat.

“Your Mai’s new plaything?” Kieh snorted.

“Business partner.” He shot back, remembering how Mai had described Jack. Nani laughed sharply.

 “Boy, you don’t know him very well, do you?” Kieh snarled, leaping out of his chair and starting at the woman before he realized what he was doing. She’d backed against the wall, hand over her heart.

 _“Great Shi’a… the fire in your eyes…”_ she muttered and he looked down at his feet, dropping his clenched fists.

 _“You have godfire in you…”_ He glanced up and she was fingering the water knot at her collar. Kieh sighed, stretching his arms above his head, his hands bumping the palm slats. Nani muttered a quiet prayer and took a deep breath.

 _“Forgive me.”_ He shook his head.

 _“No, forgive me.”_ He bowed to her and then returned to where he sat in the seat.

 

 She busied herself with collecting the items Mai had asked for. She placed two bows and three knives on the table, two quivers of arrows, packets of jerky and sacks of flour, grain, oats, beans and rice. Strings of peppers and dried packets of herbs, salt and jugs of water. Two new pairs of trousers and one pair of leather breeches, a dusky silver tunic with a dark colored belt. She had him stand and try on various clothing items until she settled on a pair of tan leather breeches and pale tunic with a thin vest and thick belt. She took the trousers he’d worn and folded them up, adding them to the pile. She sorted through and picked out two heavy red and beige blankets and a blue mat that he realized was a horse blanket. She measured out and cut lengths of cord, sorted through spools of thread and twine and fishing line. Picked out hooks and arranged them in a sort of rolled up pack and set them out. She picked out another pack off the ground and hefted it and then started loading products into it.

“Milo’s outside. I’m sure she won’t like stopping in her weaving but she’ll take you down to the lake.” He stood up, dismissed and walked out of the hut. The girl looked up at him and then sighed, setting the hand loom down. She dusted her hands off and her pants and wiped her brow.

 _“Shi’a’s breath, it’s hot out today. Sandstorm soon.”_ She muttered and flashed a smile at Kieh. He smiled back. She motioned for him to follow her down the dusty lane.

They walked for a while, passed the huts and down an embankment into a grove of agave. The girl, Milo, seemed to know where she was going as she wound through the grove and onto a sandy beach. A lake stretched out before them, wide and round with a surface so smooth and clear it was like a tear drop fell from the heavens and was pooled in the earth’s hand. He could see Mai sitting a short ways off, his legs splayed out on the sand, water beading down his chest. His eyes shown with laughter and he was completely naked. A boy sat next to him, hardly a man, and smiled at some joke he’d made while another sat on a rock near by. All were naked. The boy on the rock, who when he turned his face, revealed a face that was covered in swirling silver tattoos. He was a sight, all milky caramelized skin and flowing silver hair. His dots said he was forty but he looked hardly a year beyond man hood. A Shaman, Kieh’s mind told him. The man immediately looked his way, light amber eyes locked onto his green ones. He muttered someone under his breath and fingered a glyph tattooed above his heart. The boy next to Mai whistled appreciatively and Mai just grinned.

Milo didn’t look even a bit offended by the sight of the men’s nakedness.

 _“If I didn’t have to get back to my weaving-“_ She glared pointedly at the boy next to Mai, _“-I would join you.”_ She then looked at the silver haired man.

 _“I’m glad your back, Shantanin. Should I get your robe together for the rite tonight?”_ Without taking his eyes off of Kieh he nodded.

 _“Yes. Thank you, Milo. Give Nani my respects.”_ The boy next to Mai snorted a laugh.

 _“She says your chickenshit for running to the gods at the first sign of trouble. Says Minakoko can take care of themselves. Who cares what the Shinani see?”_ A small smile played on the shaman’s lips. He looked to the girl and then pointedly back at Kieh.

 _“Tell her_ I _care about what the Shinani see.”_ The reply was greeted by a roar of laughter.

“Sit down, Kieh.” Mai pulled him out of his thoughts. He’d spaced out as he’d watched Milo walk away and the shaman stare at him. He flopped down in the sand casually. The boy smiled at him sheepishly.

 _“Sorry I called Mai a pino earlier. I didn’t know it was him.”_ Mai raised an eyebrow at the boy and Kieh just shrugged.

 _“It’s alright. That asshole was annoying me anyway.”_ The boy snorted and laughed toothily shaking his head.

 _“Shi’a’s tits, your shuntanka is a funny one, Beautiful Mai.”_ Mai snorted and shook his head, glancing at Kieh with amusement.

 _“He sure is lively. Fights like a coyote. Fitting isn’t it? Hah, Shi’a’s tits…”_ The shaman scoffed, glaring out across the lake.

 _“Be more respectful.”_ He snapped angrily, watching a storm front far to the west. Dark clouds loomed and he shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. Mai looked confused.

 _“What crawled up your ass and died, Shan?”_ Shan scoffed again and sighed.

 _“Nothing. I’m sorry. It’s been troubling since the last time you were here, Beautiful. Shi’a’s quiet and storms are brewing. The pino are getting restless…”_ Kieh was surprised by the snarl that rose to his lips but let it come. The shaman had an almost grateful look on his face while the boy seemed surprised and Mai put his hand on Kieh’s thigh to calm him. He shrugged at Mai in an attempt to brush him off.

 _“What do you mean restless?”_ He growled, hatred streaking through his heart in painful slashes. The shaman sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t braided.

 _“They keep pushing us to convert to their devil-worship. Killed two braves day before last for wearing knots. They’re getting violent. Want to start a fight. Shi’a won’t talk to me. It’s like he’s gone silent… it scares me. Last time it was this dark…”_ The shaman’s amber eyes took on this vacant, terrified look. Kieh grunted.

_“He’s tired. He’ll come back soon, and when he does, the pino should crawl back into the filthy holes they came from because he’ll bring a hellfire hotter then anything they ever could with their guns and their demon-gods. He’ll set us free.”_

There was a collective gasp, a hand squeezing his thigh and one covering the boy’s mouth. The shaman just looked at him, eyes wide, and mouth agape. Finally Mai spoke.

 _“I told you… He fights like a coyote…”_ The shaman seemed to shudder and then took a shaky breath.

 _“Talu… Find Ti. Tell him to take the braves out and find a pino. A dirty one. We sacrifice tonight.”_ Talu jumped to his feet, looked at Kieh with a wild eyed look of excitement and fear and then sped off. He felt Mai’s arms on him, wrapped around him, taking in shuddering breaths and whispering to him. But his eyes were on the shaman and the shaman’s on him.

_“He has godfire in him, Mai. He’ll save us.”_

_~*~_


	7. Sacrfice

That night a fire was built in the center of the village and drums were played. The people danced and Mai spend hours painstakingly braiding his hair in the traditional way of the Suneaters. A hundred inch wide braids fell down his back and were tied together with red leather cord to make a rope between his shoulders. His face was painted with red glyphs and lines of power and he was anointed with a coyote skin robe. Then he was brought out into the village.

The people parted before him, wide eyed and awe filled. They whispered and glyphed themselves in his presence, some dropping to their knees in reverence. He stayed stoic and silent, pride coursing through him, the scent of fire blooms playing at his cheeks. The shaman stood in the center of the clearing in front of the great fire, hands raised and trembling. He was chanting slowly to himself, over and over, drawing Shi’a down to him.

 _“I’m already here.”_ He growled, his voice deep and gravely and the shaman spun around, eyes wide. He dropped to his knees then, almost groveling.

 _“Great god! See us, see your people. We are indebted to you for giving us this great land but we are in trouble. The pino cut us down, cage us and tell us where we can hunt and make our beds. Free us! Free us great one…”_ The shaman trailed off, sobbing, hunched as if in pain and he smiled. It wasn’t the full toothed smile but a twitch of his lips. He glanced around, looking at the stunned and prideful faces of his people. Then he beckoned to his companion. He strode to him, looking terrified and lust filled. He smiled at the sight of those deep blue eyes, soft, warm hair and pulled him close, his hand slipping around his waist.

 

 _“Where are the others? Tamina and To’m’ia?”_ His companion shook his head fearfully. He scoffed.

 _“Cowards. Where is my sacrifice?”_ Now his voice was directed at the shaman. The silver haired man jumped, floundering internally, then beckoned to the warriors off to the left. Between them they held an incessantly babbling white man. His red hair was matted with sweat and his grey eyes were round. They tossed him down before him and the man stared up fearfully. He smiled the full toothed smile this time and bent to whisper in his companion’s ear.

 _“I’ll kill for you. Just say the word.”_ His companion shivered and grasped at him, his hair to pull him down into a kiss.

 _“Please?”_ The word made him growl in delight.

 _“For you.”_ And then he lunged.

He could hear the man’s shrieking and the peoples cheering, the shaman’s chanting and the gasp from his companion. Then a sound that came close to keening. And it pushed him to the edge. Claws tore the man’s flesh from his bones, teeth ripped at his eyes and throat and blood painted his face as it spurted from the man. His screams died down but he still ripped, splaying his entrails for his companion and grinning, growling, heat pounding in him, pride and hatred. The people were chanting with the shaman now, the drums beating, dancing and love-making and crying out for joy. He dropped the man’s lung from between his teeth and smiled, surveying his warriors. His people. And he felt whole. Righting himself he felt his claws retreat, his fangs secede. The shaman stopped chanting and the noise died. He turned to his companion, blood splattered and smiled a gentle smile. A beckoning smile and his companion flew at him, defiling himself with the man’s blood and writhing for his touch. He whispered into his hair half truths and nothings about getting dirty but his companion wasn’t listening. He breathed a laugh and lifted his head, eyes on the waning moon and uncountable stars. Water was in the air, a storm soon, and then closer. A lake. He turned and headed for it, guiding his companion with him and the people parted in his wake, watched him go, but did not follow. _Good,_ he thought, _I will return. They know that. Good. Very good._

His companion shed his clothes, a pair of trousers and a light vest faster then he removed his loin cloth and robe of now blood stained coyote fur. Then his companion was in his arms, writhing, pressing against him and they were falling onto the sand, body’s pressed so close together they were like one entity, moving together, pleasure building, lips mingling and teeth tugging at heated flesh and hands roaming soft skin. Climax came too soon and they were too spent to move away or continue. He was happy though, his companion in his arms, soft sand underneath him and the slow lull of the waves singing him to sleep. In his last coherent moments he pulled the coyote robe up to cover their nakedness. He didn’t want to share the expanses of pale flesh with anyone. Then he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

~*~


	8. Strangers

Kieh woke up feeling like his head was full of cotton balls and his tongue was two sizes too big. He was hot and sticky and someone was sleeping on him. Someone was talking to him. Something was rushing in his ears, some noise other then the voice. Something rumbled in his chest, shifted, rolled over and fell asleep. He scrunched his nose and blinked against the harsh sun, groaning at his tight joints.

 _“Sir? Sir, I don’t mean to wake you…”_ He blinked against the sun and looked at whoever was bothering him. It was Shan.

 _“Then why are you?”_ Shan looked startled and fearful.

 _“I didn’t think you wanted to sleep on the beach all day. And frankly the people are afraid to come down to fish with you here, sir.”_ Kieh groaned again, forcing himself to try and sit and then falling exhaustedly back onto the sand.

 _“Give me a minute…”_ Shan nodded and stood, walking away to talk with a man that he recognized as Marin. He sighed and shifted, rolling his shoulders which were increasingly tight.

 _“Shi’a…”_ Mai’s breath was hot on his ear and made him jump. Kieh’s movement only made Mai snuggle closer to him, murmuring incoherently. He furrowed an eyebrow and nudged Mai a little. He felt Mai tense, stretch and blink at him, eyes hazy with post-sleep stupor. He smiled gently and reached up to kiss Kieh lightly and then nuzzled into his neck.

 _“Hey now, don’t go back to sleep.”_ Kieh muttered, a flush rising to his cheeks. He felt Mai’s hand trail down his chest and wrap around his waist.

 _“But I want to…”_ He murmured quietly and Kieh sighed.             

 _“Me too, but we can’t sleep on the beach all day… this is embarrassing.”_ Mai muttered something incoherent and Kieh resolved to sit up, forcing Mai to let go of him and fall onto the sand, looking surprised.

 _“Shi’a, we can stay here all day if you wish it.”_ Kieh raised an eyebrow at Mai’s words, and then his nakedness and then his own nakedness. He cursed.

 _“What the hell? What in the name of the gods happened last night?”_ Mai giggled drunkenly. _“Now you’re speaking in third person, Shi’a. Very funny…”_ Kieh growled, glaring at the man.

 _“Stop calling me that and tell me what happened, dammitall!”_ Mai’s eyebrows sprang up and he whimpered.

 _“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I-“_ Kieh huffed angrily and glared at Mai pointedly.

 _“I don’t know what you think I am, but I don’t remember shit from last night. Blacked out when I saw the fire. So stop talking to me like I know what’s going on.”_ Mai gasped, then covered his mouth.

 _“Nothing?”_ Kieh ran his hang through his hair.

 _“I remember dreaming… about my mother.”_ The thing inside him grumbled. It did not want to wake. It was angry. He had to go somewhere to lie down.

 _“Look we can talk later. Right now I want to move.”_ Mai blinked and then nodded.

 _“Uh, yeah.”_ Then he started looking around muttering

 _“Clothes, clothes, clothes…”_ He picked up his vest and slipped it on, then did this little shimmy as he wiggled into his pants. He efficiently tied a piece of cloth around Kieh’s waist and then stood up, dusting himself off. His cheeks were red. Embarrassed. That made Kieh smile. He stood, brushed off his front and was surprised to find himself covered in dried blood. Mai had it too, on his neck and chest. Kieh shook away his bewilderment as the thing inside him growled and groaned, not wanting to have him move. _Sorry._ He thought, then wondered who he was thinking to. Thinking to? What did that mean? He shook that away too and grabbed the coyote skin robe before heading up the embankment.

Shan followed them as Mai grasped Kieh’s hand and led him through the village. He stopped in the village center, eyes wide at the gory sight of a white man splayed open and being picked apart by ravens. He looked at Mai, mouth hanging slack.

 _“Did I do that?”_ He asked quietly so Shan wouldn’t hear. The shaman looked immensely pleased.

 _“Because I told you to.”_ Mai replied quietly and tugged on his hand, leading him away. He let himself be led.

 

By the time they got to Mai’s hut the thing inside him was raging. It wanted to sleep. It was yanking his mind out of consciousness, pulling at his nerves, causing his legs to lock up and fall to jelly. Mai practically dragged him into the hut and the thing finally stopped with a vengeful roar when he slumped onto the dusty bed pallet. It took all he had to keep his eyes open. The thing was okay with this and grumbled before it fell asleep. He sighed wearily.

 _“Sir are you alri-“_ Kieh growled.

 _“Don’t call me sir. Call the thing inside me sir. Now, tell me what happened.”_ He looked at Mai and Mai bit his lip, looking at the expression on Shan’s face.

 _“We called down Shi’a for the rite but he was already here, in you. We begged him to help and he seemed eager… asked me were the other gods were. Tamina and To’m’ia. Not Mo’nia though… then he asked for his sacrifice. He said he’d kill for me, so I told him to and he ripped that man apart… it was beautiful… like you on the train. Prefect… Then we…”_ Mai blushed profusely and covered his face in his hands, slumping into a near by chair. Shan touched his arm sympathetically.

 _“So… Shi’a… is inside of me? And you… had sex with him?”_ Mai wailed in embarrassment and burrowed farther into his hands.

 _“We didn’t get that far! Gods, I almost had sex with a god!”_ Shan hushed him, looking stern and motherly.

 _“Stop that! It’s not that bad. I’ll have to do it one day.”_ They both looked at Shan. He blushed lightly and shrugged.

 _“All shaman are born from a joining between a god and a mortal. My father joined with Tamina. I don’t know who I’m supposed to join with but it has to be a god… before I’m fifty too…”_ Shan sighed sort of and then shook himself.

_“Anyway…”_

_“Shantanin! Mai!”_ The boy from the day before, Talu, burst into the hut, sides heaving.

 _“Pino men are here! They’re trying to hurt Marin!”_ His eyes locked on Kieh and the thing inside him roared, forcing him up, off the bed pallet and passed the boy, out into the light. He stumbled; feeling suddenly exhausted but forced himself forward. Mai followed worriedly and Shan looked like he wanted to run ahead.

 _“Talu, go make sure noth-“_  Gunshots sounded. Kieh lurched into a run, Mai following and soon surpassing him, his run fearful and fevered. The thing in him thrashed, not yet strong enough to emerge. _Stop it. I’ve got this._

There were three men in white uniforms in the center of the village, most of the village people gathered now. Marin was slumped over onto the ground, held in Ti’s arms. Blood was seeping from a wound in his shoulder. One of the Officers was lowering a pistol. The grisly remains of the white man were still rotting in the sun but the ravens were gone. Kieh focused on the man with the pistol and lunged.

His first grab at the man missed, but then his claws appeared and sank into the man’s arm, and he squeezed, listening to the bones crack with satisfaction. Then his other hand went for the man’s head. There was a thundering roar and the sound of metal against flesh and his arm jerked back, as did the rest of him and he landed on the ground like a limp doll, his mind emptied off all thought. Then came the pain, searing, excruciating pain, blinding, white hot, like a hot coal in an open wound. He gasped, his vision gone black and blood rushing in his ears. He wanted to curl in on himself or to lash out at what was paining him but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Then it all went black.

 

~*~


	9. Shi'a

When he woke again the shaman was kneeling over him, eyes wide with worry. He groaned, pushing himself off the dirt. Blood dripped down the end of his nose and onto the sand with a small puff of dust. He sighed looking at the shaman and giving a weak smile as his arm throbbed, giving out and he fell onto the dust again.

 _“What happened?”_ The shaman shook his head and motioned to the three dead white men. They’re white uniforms were splattered in blood like he’d punched in their chests and ripped out their hearts. Upon closer inspection he found that he had indeed ripped out their hearts, and throats and the scalp off one man’s head. He smiled quietly as his arm throbbed.

 _“Those men came to collect the taxes and found the sacrifice. It’s against the laws to remove a sacrifice from it’s resting place until it’s bones are bleached white.”_ He grunted something close to ‘I know’ and the shaman continued. _“Marin tried to explain that to them and they called him a heathen and shot him. Then you came. They shot you in the arm and then you just lost it, punched a hole in one man’s chest and ripped the other two apart. The people are terrified of you, sir.”_ He groaned trying to push himself up again but the shaman put his hand on his back and pushed him down.

 _“Stay there. You’re going to hurt yourself more if you try to move.”_ He snarled. He wanted to move, to run as fast as he could into the sun and burn up. He wanted to swim out to sea and sink into it’s inky black depths. He wanted to hunt something, kill something. He wanted to run the length of his lands and kill anyone who stood in his way, slaughter the masses of the white cloud and keep going until his world was bathed in their blood and cleansed of their filth. Then he wanted to create a new crop of dark skinned people to populate his clean world and he and Mo’nia-

 _“Mo’nia… my love, where is he?”_ Shan glanced behind him.

 _“Coming around. One of the Officers was going to shoot you again and he jumped at him. The Officer clocked him upside the head and you broke both his arms before you ripped his throat out. He’s fine though.”_ He growled possessively but said nothing more, feeling his consciousness slipping.

 _“Fix my arm…”_ He mumbled before slipping away. Shan might have replied but he didn’t hear.

He dreamed he was falling, just falling, not too fast, not too slow, like he was sinking underwater, and there was a tightness in his chest and black all around him and he didn’t want to take a breath for fear he’d breath in the blackness. The blackness was dangerous, it wanted to hurt him, he could feel it. But his lungs were burning, he needed air, he needed to breath. He opened his mouth and gasped, letting the blackness fill him. It felt good, he could breathe again. He could feel the tightness in his chest start to unfold, colors running out of him, blue, purple, red, green, yellow, flowing out of him in ribbons as he fell. The end was nearing, he knew it, the ground coming up to fast and he twisted, trying to get his feet under him before he the bottom. He landed on his butt in the inky darkness, black dust floating up around him. He grumbled internally and stood up, looking around and rubbing his bruised backside.

A light bobbed in the darkness. It fluttered, fell and fluttered up again, coming at him. He smiled slightly and moved toward it, walking delayed and in the slow motion of underwater. He smiled again, speaking it’s name to pull it closer.

 _Munka, Munka, Munka…_ He thought over and over again. Green butterfly, green butterfly. It floated closer to him, fell again and landed with a small puff on the black dusted ground. He skidded to a stop and knelt down. The butterfly flapped in the dust and then lay still. He scooped it up in childlike hands, holding it with fearful tenderness. It righted it’s self in his hand, standing on delicate green legs, flapping it’s tissue paper wings. He smiled, lifting it to his face and looking at it with childish eagerness. He blew air softly onto it and it lifted into the air, fluttering for a ways and then falling again. He leapt over to catch it and let it right it’s self in his hand. He smiled sadly at the broken thing in his hand and whispered to it. _“Mi’ania comei Munka.” I’ll protect you, Green Butterfly._

Kieh and the thing came to consciousness at the same time. It sighed as if happy and moved around in his chest, not trying to take over, just trying to share control. He let it, blinked open their eyes and looked around. Mai was sitting on the bed pallet next to him, wringing out a cloth in a water basin on his lap. He moistened it and turned to him, eyes widening a little at the sight of his open eyes. He smiled a little and placed the cool cloth across his forehead.

“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

“Fine.” They both replied, distorting their voice. Mai raised an eyebrow but shook his head, pushing a piece of hair out of their face. They smiled and he smiled back.

“I’ll go get Shan to look at your arm. He’s outside talking to a visitor…” He looked toward the lopsided door hanging where Shan’s silhouette could be seen. He was speaking quickly in a dialect the thing understood but he did not.

 _He’s saying it’s impossible for the visitor to see us right now._ The thing translated and he nodded slowly, watching the shadow beyond Shan. Another voice spoke, deep with timbre and booming though quiet.

 _The visitor is saying that it’s urgent. He has a message for me from the Elder Council in Rah._ The thing inside him squirmed distastefully, pulling out of his head for a moment and then resurfacing.

 _Watch yourself, Coyote. This man is an incubus._ The door hanging shifted and Shan walked in, followed by another man.

He was tall, almost so he had to stoop, and was probably a tad bit taller then Kieh, with skin so velvety black it looked like a starless night and silver hair that shone like the full moon. His eyes were set into a sharply handsome face, burning red, and his lips were tinged silver, pulled into a smile. His arms were long and corded with muscle, his torso lean and bare, covered in swirling red tattoos. He was covered by a tanned loincloth that swished with the length of his tail, which was visible passed his legs, a long length of skin tufted at the end by silver fur.  His legs were long and backward kneed, with glass black fur covering steel gray hooves. From his head sprang up two curved ram horns of the same steel gray.

He inclined his head respectfully to them as the thing took over control of his mouth and ears. Kieh sat back and waited, watching curiously. He knelt then, bowing his head more, as if he knew the thing had risen to the surface rather then him.

“Lord, Shi’a…” He started in Evianian. The thing rolled his eyes and sat up on his elbows.

“Out with it.” He growled, distorting his voice. The man looked surprised but nodded.

“Tamina is staying in Rah. He wishes to see you.” The thing inside he sat bold upright and so did he. Then he hissed angrily and grabbed his arm, watching red bleed through the white bandage.

“Tamina? Is To’m’ia with him?” The man shook his head, red eyes down trodden. The thing sighed and looked at Mai, taking his hand and squeezing it. Mai squeezed back.

“Take me to him.”

 

~*~


	10. Traveling

It was nightfall by the time Mai was ready to leave. They had been ready for a while but both Mai and Shan insisted upon going with them. Only when they finished packing up did he realize he had Meiko to himself. Mai had mounted a slight looking palomino mare and Shan had a white steed that suited him as a Shaman. The man whose name had yet to be announced was mounted atop a horse that’s shoulder was eye level with Mai and dusky brown with white furred socks and a silky chocolate mane. It snorted at Meiko and Meiko snorted back, bucking his back legs in irritation as he tried to sooth the flustered beast. Kieh was panicking in his chest but he sent soothing thoughts to him as he mounted the horse, knowing that he was a better rider then most of his people and that the boy needn’t worry. It still fidgeted as he coaxed the horse into a trot to keep up with the incubus’s mount. His companion pulled up beside him and looked back at Shan worryingly.

 _“Are you sure you should come?”_ He asked and the shaman huffed.

 _“Talu can take care of things while I’m gone.”_ He replied irritably and he laughed, drawing their attention.

 _“The young boy right? He’s a fine apprentice, Shantanin, but he’s not Touched, is he?”_ Shan shook his head.

 _“No, should he be?”_ He shrugged.

 _“Probably, unless he was born in To’m’ia. Then he doesn’t have to be.”_ Shan looked confused for a moment then his eyes cleared and he nodded.

 _“I believe he was born in To’m’ia… I was born in You, my lord.”_ If he was looking for praise he simply got a dust cloud as he heeled Meiko to follow the incubus.

“What is your name, stranger?” The man looked at him and blinked.

“Munka.” He replied quietly and he had to suppress both surprise and a chuckle.

“Munka, thank you for coming all this way. It was no doubt tedious for you.” Munka rumbled a laugh.

“Very. The desert is not what I am used to. But I was sent by my Elders. I could not refuse. There is little food for me here in the desert…” Munka looked at him questioningly and he shrugged, looking back at his companion.

“I’m sure if it’s all political my companion won’t mind. Wait until we bed down and I will ask him.” Munka let out a breathy sigh of relief.

 “Thank you.” He said thickly. He just shrugged in return.

They bedded down by a small clear stream in the shade of some leaning palms. The boy insulted him for sitting on the bed pallet the minute it was finished and not lifting a finger to help through the rest of the camp-making process. He just snorted and shoved Kieh down. _I’m a god, remember? I don’t have to do menial tasks like that… neither does Mo’nia for that matter._ He tried to call his companion over and tell him to leave those things to the mortals but he wasn’t paying attention. He was too engrossed in a conversation with Shantanin. He sighed and glanced at Munka. He was lounging on his furs with his mount lying down at the head of his bed, a convenient headrest. He raised a silver eyebrow in his direction and he shrugged. Pushing himself off the ground he sauntered over to where his companion sat by the fire with the shaman, slowly stirring a pot of meat and peppers. He wrapped his arms around his companion’s shoulders and resting his chin atop his head, sighing a little.

“I have to go feed Munka…” He muttered and his companion jumped, glancing at Munka and then up at him.

 _“Shi’a…?”_ He chuckled and kissed his forehead.

 _“Yes?”_ His companion glanced down, blushing lightly.

 _“Don’t do anything Kieh is uncomfortable with.”_ He raised an eyebrow, feeling around in his chest. The coyote had sunk deep within him hours ago and was currently playing in his dreams. He nodded.

 _“I won’t.”_ He stood and turned to Munka, who was looking expectant. He jerked his head toward the purpling desert and they departed.

He found an expanse of flat rocks, sort of tumbled together in a comfortable fashion and motioned for Munka to sit and prepare himself. He scanned the horizon as the incubus shed his loincloth and made himself comfortable, hissing against the cold abrasiveness of the stone. He smiled. That’s what he wanted. He drew a long breath and let it out slowly as he shucked his tunic and fiddled with the strings on his pants. He dropped them and turned back to the sight that greeted him. Expansive of velvety black skin, slabs of warm muscle and a length that made his body twitch almost fearfully. He shrugged it off, letting his claws grow and ears spike, fangs nip at his lips. He was regaining more and more of his natural form everyday and relished it. He grinned at the ‘o’ that appeared on Munka’s lips. He smiled the full toothed smile and sidled up the incubus’s body, taking a seat nonchalantly on his chest, groin face to face with his mouth. He ran his fingers through Munka’s silky bangs and smiled, gripping them lightly. “There you go. Feast.” And his smile was cruel.

Munka’s tongue was crueler. It let him slip in and locked him there torturously as the incubus took him whole without releasing him, causing his body to lock up and spasm. His breath hitched and his body pitched forward, hands braced against the cool rock and tangled in Munka’s hair, his hips trying to ride it but Munka’s steely hands stilling them. He growled angrily at the incubus and it responded to him by heaving them both up and flipping their positions, putting him under Munka and in position for the incubus’s next sexual endeavor. His body reacted to this and he could feel himself arching his back, bringing his hips up in anticipation for penetration. Munka laughed breathily against his neck, tongue flicking out to tease the heated flesh as he pressed toward the other, teasing his hole, making him jump. He dug his claws into Munka’s hair and pulled him off of his neck and to his mouth, lips bruising against silver lips, tongues dancing. Then he ripped the incubus away.

“Fuck me already.” He snarled and Munka’s eyes blazed readily.

“As you wish, my lord.” And then he screamed.

 ~*~


	11. History

When he woke his mind was hazy. Something was rocking him back and forth, a slow lull, pushing him back toward sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to stay awake. Somewhere a horse snorted. He sat up straighter. He was around horses. Mai had to nearby then. Kieh blinked his bright green eyes open and looked around. They were moving, him seat in front of Mai on Meiko, the palomino mare tied to Meiko’s lead. Shan was riding ahead with Munka. The thing in him stirred in his chest but he shoved it away. He didn’t want to deal with it right now. He leaned back on Mai and smiled at him, blinking. He looked back with a mixture of pain, distrust and anger. He felt hurt.

“What did I do?” His voice was a whimper and he knew it. Mai sighed.

 “Made Kieh’s body do those things with Munka… how could you? I told you not to…” He sat up, surprised. Made his body do what with Munka? He wrenched the thing out of it’s dark spot and shook it into wakefulness.

 _What did you do?!_ He roared, anger flaring. The thing snarled and shook it’s self, pushing images of the incubus into his brain, mouth open to take him, strong arms holding him as they moved together, skin on skin, the heat of his breath against the nape of his neck, the sound of his moans. Kieh shook the thing against and shoved it back down as far as it would go.

“How dare he…” He snarled, fists curled furiously.  Mai blinked at him, recognition coming over his face.

“Oh, Kieh!” He gasped, arm wrapping around his waist. There was a tangle as they grabbed at each other, a yelp and the toppled off of the horse’s back and into the dirt.

Mai looked at Kieh, bewildered and Kieh couldn’t help but laugh. Mai’s hair was sticking out in every direction and his cheeks were flushed and sun freckled. He pulled the blonde man close and nuzzled him affectionately, placing butterfly kisses on his face. Mai giggled and held him back and they cuddled for a moment on the ground.

“My lord! Are you alright!?” Shan halted before him, eyes wide and worried. Mai and Kieh crowed.

“Your lord is an asshole!” He replied and rolled Mai over in the dirt gleefully. Mai’s eyes sparkled in delight as Kieh kissed him, pressed them together and whispered to him. He could feel Shan and Munka watching but didn’t care. He was just happy to be with Mai. The palomino mare wandered off while Meiko watched them, nickering at their antics and whuffling their hair. Mai laughed at the stallion and kissed it on the nose, making Meiko back away from them and stamp his foot indignantly. But the steed understood the joke.

“Should we… leave them be?” Munka’s deep timbre cut through to them and Mai glanced at Kieh and then to the incubus and shaman.

 “Yes, you should. We’ll catch up. Don’t worry, your precious god is safe inside Kieh.” Mai’s voice was snappish and possessive when he said Kieh’s name.  Kieh liked that, liked Mai, wanted Mai so desperately it wasn’t amusing anymore. He whimpered and curled himself around the blonde man, legs intertwining, skin touching, lips against his neck. He glared at Munka, and at Shan too, willing them away. They took one last look at them and turned their horses, commanding them to trot on down the road.

The harsh desert sun beat down on them, on all of the Ahyian desert, but mostly on them it seemed. The palomino mare wandered into the path of it and shaded them for a moment and they drank in her shadow before she moved on, looking for grass among the hexagonal cracks in the sand. They still writhed together, skin on skin, mouths dancing over one another and down hot necks, over pulsing veins, hands traversing flat pectorals and strong abdomens. The thing stirred in Kieh but he kept it pressed down, keeping it trapped inside him. It snarled but obeyed. And Mai, oh Mai, was all over him, all hands and mouth and tongue, whimpering to him, whispering apologies and sweet things, promising never to leave Kieh again, cursing the thing inside of him that was so tantalizing. He wanted Kieh, Kieh and only Kieh and that made his heart pound against his chest, blood rush in his ears and heat prickle in his cheeks and spread over his skin, blossom where Mai touched him.

They lay together for a long time, until the sun had sunk low in the western sky and caused pink and orange streaks to crease the horizon. Then they stood, still drunk with each other and stumbled off to find the palomino mare and Meiko, who’d both wandered off in search of food and water. They rounded them up and mounted Meiko together, Kieh behind Mai, draped over him, kissing his neck and face as Mai followed the trail that Munka and Shan had left. They’d only gone ten miles before bedding down in a small rock fall, letting it shelter them from the harsh night time wind and bitter cold. Kieh could smell food and hear the quiet sounds of Shan’s singing. Munka rose at the sight of them but was quickly glared down by Mai and Kieh who dismounted together and fell into the task of setting their bed rolls and helping Shan with the cooking. The shaman sang quietly while he worked, his voice sweet and his songs old and they soothed Kieh and the thing inside him. Munka produced a green lacquered lute some time and played hymns to accompany the shaman’s singing. They paused to eat a stew of meat and carrots and flatbread Shan had made and then continued the music because they all enjoyed the sound. As the songs got newer Mai joined Shan’s voice and then Kieh too was singing or humming along with something familiar. Old songs he’d heard from the kitchen women. Beautiful things, fragments of times before himself, clips and bits and pieces of things that were home to him, deep in his soul. One in particular stuck out to him.

_Munka, Munka_

_Inai ominia comten see_

_To cor sem saynah miah Ocia Ahya_

_Shi’a omi keiah_

_Kieh nahomi neh_

_Green Butterfly, Green Butterfly_

_Ride the wind to the Promised Land_

_Come so faithfully and do not worry_

_Shi’a will come soon_

_Free like the Coyote Moon_

It stirred Kieh, not the thing inside of him, but he himself. It was a warsong, something he’d heard legends of, songs the warriors sang before going into battle. It made him hopeful, it made him angry. The _Ocia Ahya_ , Promised Land, was for the dead. The song was that of the messenger of death, the Green Butterfly, _Munka,_ leading the braves into a hopeless battle that Shi’a would free them from. Death. The song was of death. But it stirred him, made him want to fight, want to scratch and claw his way out, rip the enemy with his teeth so he was bathed in blood when the _Munka_ came for him. Such a powerful feeling, made him want to growl and gnash his teeth, spit on the face of the Orthodox whites. It did, if they’d ever known what it said. Go faithfully into battle, ready for death, and bath yourself in the blood of the enemy before your god comes to take you away into peaceful silence. What a beautiful verse it was.

“Shan?” The shaman looked at him across the fire after their voices had died.

“Tell me about it. The leaving of the gods.” A look of sorrow crossed the shaman’s face and he smiled a broken smile.

“It was a long time ago, child, long long ago. Moons before the _Aminah,_ Great Journey. Back when the tribes lived together and warred together, only with one another and hunted all of their ranges, from the foothills of the _Takianih_ to the green shores of the sea, _Mo’nia’ahya._ There was a time when great happiness reined; things were plentiful, food, water, babies, the crop. Shi’a and Mo’nia watched over the people from the _Shaminin._ The Garden. Tamina led great rites with the people, calling down rain and warding off disease. To’m’ia healed the sick and wounded, birthed babies and spread love throughout the land. But then the white people came.

“They came down out of the mountains like a cloud. At first they were pleasant, trade went back and forth and trust was strengthened between the people and the whites. But they found us to be primitive, savage. They thought our gods were impostures and pushed the Orthodox way on us. When we refused, they came at us like an unending rain, relentless. The first to stand against them were the _Shinani,_ Suneater, and the _Miocahya,_ Greyfoot. Their braves were strong and noble and drove the whites out of their ranges and away from the tribes surrounding them. They retreated for a while, the whites, and then came back with a doubled force. The shaman sought the help of the gods and Tamina answered by sending disease and famine to their camps, rotting their food and laming their horses and livestock. He was the first they cut down, sheltering with the _Miocahya_ , and caught when their villages were pillaged. The songs of his battle are heroic, saving his shaman at the price of his own life.

“To’m’ia was the next to answer the call. Stricken by the loss of Tamina he gathered the strength of the _Shinani_ and the _Minakoko_ Moondancers. He brought down a fury on the whites. Many died on both sides and at the end of the battle To’m’ia was cut down by the white’s magicians. They had magic, you see, that they dug out of the earth and destroyed, molding it to themselves and using it against the people. They’re bullets pierced our antelope hide armor and our arrows snapped against their steel plates. We cried out and cried out for Shi’a but he ignored us, too busy chasing Mo’nia. But Mo’nia answered, feeling the people’s sorrow and pain and brought them comforting songs and hope for the future. He brought them horses and wolves to be tamed at the people’s sides and made the sun so hot it burned white skin. He reminded the people to be smart and not to fear for he would be waiting for them on the other side. All tribes rose to that, Suneater, Greyfoot and Moondancer, Tallgrass and Starseer and Treewhisper, Harehunter and Blackpelt, Rockgazer and Buffalofriend. Whitesky and Greenriver. All came to Mo’nia’s call.

“Battles were won and lost under Mo’nia but he directed his forces at the whites without relent. He led them under the cover of darkness, in the pelting rain and pounding hail, falling snow and flashing lightning they fought. But the white cloud was unending and advanced on them daily. Even with Mo’nia’s divine power it was not enough to keep them out, they over ran villages, pillaged and burned, slaughtered all they saw. The people begged for Shi’a to help but he ignored them, angry they’d taken Mo’nia’s attention from him. He fought only when they were on his boarder, overrunning his garden and burning his flowers, his precious poppies, symbols of death. They slaughtered Mo’nia on that holy ground and drove Shi’a to the point of insanity, pushed him out, away from the people and into the sea, into the darkness of despair and hatred. The people that remained were rounded up and put onto reservations, bound together and forced away from tribal tradition. It was pride that kept the shaman alive and the tribe identities. More women then braves, your mother’s clan became yours. Shi’a did not speak for a long time. And when he finally did moons and moons ago he directed rites in his name, called for power and promised hellfire.

“You are that hellfire, Kieh.” Shan looked at the green eyed boy with a seriousness that could cut the thickest fog. Kieh’s throat had been closing all through the story and now he felt like his heart was in his throat, he could breath and he gulped at his fear. He shook his head and the thing inside him, slowly surfacing, nudged him toward acceptance.

“No. No.” He shook his head again and promptly buried himself in the blankets Mai had set out for them. He shoved the thing back down into it’s pit. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to find Mai’s hand on his shoulder comforting but he couldn’t. When the fire had died to coals he gave up to crying and tried not the scream in rage when he caught Munka staring at him. He rolled away from the incubus and tried to sleep.

 

~*~

 


	12. Red Ridge

Only hours later he woke, packed him and Mai’s things silently onto Meiko and the palomino mare and woke Mai only to roll the blankets.

“Where’re you going?” He slurred, still in a sleepy stupor. Kieh gently shook him awake.

 “Away. I can’t take this anymore. I just… I just want to get back to something normal. Let things settle.” Mai nodded tiredly and stood up to stumble off to piss. Kieh had the horses ready when he returned and when Mai mounted the palomino mare he pushed himself up onto Meiko’s shoulders and sighed gently, shaking himself a little and then spurred the horse into walking. Munka and Shan only woke after they were 30 miles down the trail and far too far away.

They stopped that night by a slow moving stream running through a gully. Mai hurried the horses into a crevice in the rocks and tied clothes around their faces before securing them to a log that inhabited the cave. He pulled out a blanket and wrapped Kieh and himself in it, eating a supper of jerky and cold bread. The wind started to whip outside and the whipping whine grew swiftly into a roar which brought ragging sand with it. Mai left Kieh only to bring the horses as far into the crevice as he could and to sooth their frightened nickering. He huddled again in Kieh’s arms and listened to the terrifying sound of sand whipping against stone and water and ground, the scream of the mare as she was buffeted by debris and the howling wind, the cackling laughter it made, the evil sounds it produced. The blanket was whipped around, almost out of their white knuckled hands as they sat pressed together, praying for it to be over. It subsided somewhere near morning and Mai let them leave the safety of the crevice after the wind had died.

The mare’s leg was torn by a flying stick and Mai took the time to wrap it in bandage he’d brought, to check Meiko’s legs for injuries and brushed both of them off with weeds he found outside. The stream had been turned to mud and new drifts of sand piled up everywhere, under laid by hexagonal crackling of the desert ground. They ate more cold meat and set out on foot, leading the horses and letting their stinging hides rest. Kieh had never experienced a sandstorm before and jumped at the slightest breeze until Mai calmed him, saying it was cool that day, maybe even a little cloudy, though all Kieh saw were ghosts of wisps of clouds, and said sandstorms came on days it was particularly hot. This calmed Kieh a bit. The thing inside him stayed quiet.

They mounted their horses again around noon and road another thirty miles before dusk. They trotted up a rise and stopped, looking down at that town before them. Set in the shade of a tall cliff of a red stone was the town of Red Ridge. It was a sleepy little trading post with an average nightlife and arms thrown wide to strangers. Chickens scratched in the streets, children stayed out after dark and the Officers were local and rumored to be gun shy.

Mai led the way down the slope into the little metropolis. Though it’s small size it was a booming trade center and Mai knew the way to the tavern by heart. There was a light in the window and when Mai whistled a lanky native boy come around the side and helped them unload the horses before leading them around the back to the stable. Mai nudged the door open and was greeted by a thin round faced white woman with dark hair pulled back in a bun and her face pinched.

“Matthew, my word! Showing up at who knows what hour with who knows how much stuff and who knows who with you!” She huffed angrily as two more native boys scurried up to take their burdens and head upstairs with them. They were both shoved to a table by the woman who took in their dusty forms, especially Kieh’s, and her frown worsened.

 “You to head straight to the bath when your done eating, do you understand that Matthew?” He chuckled as a slight ginger girl come over to them with bowls of stew and mugs of mead.

“Alright, Mira. You’re smothering us.” She finally smiled, just a snarky twitch of her lips.

“Where have you been anyway? You were away longer this time. Where’s Jack?” Mai shrugged.

 “Busy up north. Jack’s supposed to be passing through on his way to Ev’an but he had to stop a couple places along the way. He’ll probably show up in a couple days. This is Michael, by the way.” He threw his thumb in Kieh’s direction and he bit back a correction. Best to use that name here. He nodded to the woman and she twitched back, eyes on Mai again.

“I’ll tell him you’re here when he gets in.” Mai nodded.

 “Thank you much.” Then he lit into his stew like a starved dog. Kieh did the same to not attract attention. The food was actually pretty good.

 

“Bath’s this way.” Kieh followed Mai passed a doorway covered by a bright red cloth next to the bar. The tavern was suspiciously empty, but the creaking of moving bodies and occasional snore the drifted down from up above told him it was inhabited. The baths were large porcelain tubs bolted to the floor in the middle of a raise platform in the center of the room. There were four and all of them gave off a misting of steam. Mai stripped almost immediately and left his clothes on the floor, stepping up to the lip of one tub and testing the water with his fingers. A faint smile painted his lips. “Water’s nice.” He muttered and glanced back at Kieh. “Well? I’m not going to sleep with you all filthy.”  Kieh jumped then peeled away his clothes, watching Mai sink into the pearly white bath. “Come on then…” Mai waved his hand invitingly and Kieh blushed before stepping up to the bath.

The warmth of the water sent shivers up his spine as he slid into the tub across from Mai, the bowl big enough to fit them both comfortably if he bent his legs a little. He watched as another native boy, or maybe one of the same ones, hurried and gathered their clothes before disappearing with them. He gaped a little.

“Who are those kids?” He muttered, his eyebrow arching. Mai chuckled breathily, leaning back against the tub lip, looking utterly relaxed.

“They’re Mira’s. Greyfoot orphans she’s taken in. The ginger girl is her daughter, but the native kids are orphans. There are… oh, say, twelve of them? Fifteen? I can’t remember. She’s always got more every time I come. Greyfoot healers aren’t the best and childbirth for their women is hard. Mira sends them back to the reservation when they’re sixteen. They reservation sends ‘em here when their mothers die. It’s simple.” Kieh felt a pang in his chest. Envy. And pity. His mother had worked at the mission. When she died he worked at the mission. He had no tavern woman to find shelter in. He envied that. Pitied them for being sent away by their tribe though.

“Why didn’t their father’s take them in?” Mai shrugged.

 “Couldn’t be bothered. Maybe had too many kids already. It’s a good life here. Most see their father’s when they come in to trade. They’re happy here, no one judges them and they learn what it’s like to work hard. Good food and free time abound. I would have liked to grow up here.” Kieh muttered something of an agreement when an older girl, maybe fourteen, came in with towels and placed them at the foot of the tub. She gave him a tentative pink cheeked smiled and he couldn’t help but return it. She blushed harder and hurried out. He then realized she was only two years younger then he was and that that was a stupid then to do. He looked across the room in embarrassment.

Mai shifted and next thing he knew the blonde was leaning back against his chest, slowly picking apart the multitude of tiny braids. He let him fidget with the braids and leaned back, relishing in the relaxing warmth. Mai started to talk but Kieh didn’t pay much attention, occasionally murmuring sounds that made it seem like he was listening when Mai stopped. Mai continued, shifted a couple of times to finish unraveling the braids and letting his hair fall free. A lot fell out and dirt pattered down with every cord undone. Once he’d finished that he leaned his head back against Kieh’s nape and placed a small kiss there, a contented sigh escaping him.

 

Something nudged Kieh’s limp hand and startled him out of his doze. Something cold and wet. He blinked and a pair of bright yellow eyes attached to a slim squarish muzzle and grey nose blinked back at him. He jumped at the sight of the perky sharply pointed ears and oddly human grin at appeared on that muzzle, black whiskers twitching on the white muzzle. Grey fur masked the eyes of the creature and a pointed pink tongue lolled out from between pearly white teeth. It nudged his hand again and smiled at him.

“Mai? Mai what is that?” Mai lifted one eyelid, glanced at the creature and closed his eye.

 “An Imp. Mira breeds them. They’re harmless.” Kieh glanced from the creature to Mai and back again. It continued to grin at him, then placed a white furred hand on the lip of the tub and stood up, both hands braced on the edge now. They were colored with white socks but the imp’s base color was a steely grey and each of it’s hands had perfectly shaped three knuckled fingers with black curved claws at the tips and black pads on it’s palms. It had a long, arrow tipped tail that was almost as long as Mai was tall. It’s body was lean, corded with lean muscle and sinew, it’s legs were dog like in nature with four toe-like fingers on its back feet rather than the five finger-like fingers on the front. When it dropped to all fours it loped like a dog. It panted like a dog and lazily wagged it tail like a dog. It wore a braid of tan cord around it’s neck with a piece of engraved metal attached to it reading ‘Mulzi’. When it stood on the lip of the tub again he realized it’s body was crisscrossed with silver tabby patterns. It gingerly nudged Mai who in turn placed one hand solidly on it’s muzzle and shoved it away. It whined and yapped at him. No, it was more of a ‘yarp’ noise. It loped around a little and Kieh watched others wander in from a door in the back, shades of grey, silver and gold dappling their pelts. They were at varying sizes, some smaller then others and all of them took the time to come and sniff and nudge at him before joining it’s fellows in the other three baths. They looked like dog like otters wet and splashed around gleefully before departing the bath, shaking their fur into glossy spikes. Most stopped to lick themselves dry, their tongues abrasive like cat’s it seemed and then departed the way they came.

“Pay them no mind. They like to bathe in the evening.” Mai shifted up then and reached over the edge of the tub, giving Kieh an unbridled view of his ass. He looked away a half a second too late out of modesty. Mai sat down, gave a little ‘oh!’ and smiled back at Kieh deviously. Then he produced a bar off soap and proceeded to start to lather it over his skin, washing away the grit that still tried to cling there. He soaped himself, then turned around and soaped Kieh. He chirped in surprise at this and even more so when Mai insisted upon soaping his naughty bits. Mai seemed to like this, poking and prodding Kieh this way and that so he could rub the soap over his dark skin, liking the tan streaks it left. He finally had Kieh turn around so he could wash his back and then requested the same once he was done. Kieh took his time washing Mai, a smile growing on his face at how soft and smooth and sensitive the skin on Mai’s back was. He wanted to kiss it, tease it in his teeth, but refrained. He was sort of sad when he was finished but when Mai promised a bed, and sleep, he was happy. He didn’t expect to fall asleep the minute his head hit an actual pillow but that’s the way it happened. Mai curled up in his arms he slept peacefully for the first time in a while.

 

~*~

 


	13. Kits and Wives

Morning dawned too bright and too early for Kieh. There was a rapping on the door and an announcement of breakfast but nothing more. Kieh contemplated pulling the curtains closed but decided he should probably get up. Mai was still out cold so he moved as carefully as possible, untangling their limbs and dressing in clean clothes Mai had packed. He shut the door quietly behind him and shuffled down the stairs.

The tavern was full of people. Mostly men, big and burly. Hunters. A few natives sat huddled around a pitcher of coffee in one corner but he didn’t want to bother them so he took a seat at the almost deserted bar. The young girl from the night before sidled up to the bar with a plate of ham and eggs for him. Bread slathered with butter and jam too. A cup of goat milk. He was in heaven.

“My name is Nala, by the way.” Her speech was slow and heavily accented. He glanced up at her.

“Kieh.” He replied and looked back to the food.

“Why are you here?” He looked up again and she batted her eyelashes at him. He suppressed a snort.

 “Er, business. Mai and I are, er, hunting.” She nodded excitedly.

“Hunt what? Elk? Antelope? Boar?” He looked away from her intense brown gaze.

 “Er, yeah.” He shrugged with the words and she leaned over the bar, hands propped under her chin.

“You have wife?” He shook his head.

 “Mai. I have Mai.” He looked at the girl pointedly but she didn’t seem to take the hint. She just frowned.

 “He don’t let you have one?” he just sighed.

“No. He, uh, is my wife.” The girl grinned inexplicably.

 “Oooh. You that kind of boy. No worries. I won’t tell Mira.” He arched an eyebrow and she grinned more, like a fox.

“Mira has her eyes on your Mai. Says she’s going to marry him. Says don’t tell no body. But I tell you. You nice. Good boy. Strong boy.” She made moon eyes at him and he blanched.

 “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He muttered as he turned back to his food.

 

There was a small black face in it. A small black red eared face. A small black red eared yellow eyed face in it. He picked the small imp up by its scruff and it whimpered, eggs stuck to its muzzle. It swiped its tongue around its mouth to clean it off. He shook it a little and then dropped it on the bar and pushed it as far away from his as he could. Then he started to eat again. Nala giggled when the little imp came back.

“Kits don’t give up. Get no food from mamas now. Gotta beg for it.” He looked pointedly at the kit and it wiggled on its stomach, whimpering. He pushed it away by it’s face. It came back. He cut a piece of ham from his slice and tossed it away. It chased the morsel. Then it came back. 

“Shi’a’s breath!” He swore, picking the kit up by its scruff and _tossing_ itaway. It was caught by a larger imp of the same black coloring, minus the red ears and he received a rather frightening glare before she stalked off. He sighed and turned back to his food. His arm curled protectively around his plate to ward off any attacks from other kits.

“Mamas don’t like that. Mamas still like kits. Bite hard too. Don’t forget easy.” Kieh just shrugged, stuffing his mouth full of bread. It was heavenly. He laved the jam with his tongue, savoring the taste. He couldn’t stop the contented sound that he made as it went down, strawberry. Where do they get strawberry way out here? He hadn’t had strawberry jam since his tenth birthday. The kitchen women had taken some for him and put it on the hard loaves they had. Then they sang to him. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Made him think about the mission as home. Until he was run out. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts out.

“Here comes your Mai.” Nala straightened her apron and swished off to serve some customer down the bar. Mai stumbled into the stool next to Kieh, three yarping kits in his arms. He looked blankly at Kieh.

“So I expected to wake up to you this morning… But instead I got this.” He shoved them all onto the bar, a white one, a blue-grey one and the little black on with red ears and now Kieh could see a red underbelly too. He snarled at it and it yarped back at him.

“Sorry. I was hungry.” He pulled his food closer, eyes on the kits. The white one was busy chewing on the blue-grey one’s ear, while the blue-grey one whined and kicked, trying to get out from under the red eared one, who just sat on the blue-grey one without a care, yarping away at Kieh. Mai looked from him to the kit and back.

“Did they give you trouble?” Mai nodded to the kits. Kieh grunted.

 “Just that one. The one with the red ears.” Mai laughed, reaching over to take a piece of his bread crust and chewing on it.

“Like his mother. He’d be a good hunting dog.” Kieh almost choked on his eggs. He looked at Mai with wide eyes and then to the kit.

“Hunting dog? That thieving little bas-“

“Ahem.” Kieh looked up to see Nala standing there with two plates in her hands. She set them down and he scrapped the rest of the eggs into his mouth before handing his empty plate back. He took into the next one. Mai ate more lazily.

“Your Mai is pretty, Kieh. Lucky boy.” She giggled and then looked at the kits squirming on the counter. She pulled the blue-grey one out from under the black one and grabbed up the white one too and shooed them away. She didn’t bother with the black one, who was teasing bits of ham away from Mai. Mai stole a glance at Kieh who just shrugged. He looked at Nala pointedly and she giggled again.

“I know. Hush hush.” She waved her hands dismissively and walked off. The tavern was starting to empty and there were only a few men in miners garb left at the bar. Kieh’s hunger eased and he watched Mai move, sipping his coffee, reading a stray newspaper on the bar, flicking at the black kit. It yarped at him, nibbled his fingers when he let it and batted them away when he didn’t. They were visited by other kits and their parents, all of which Mai knew and patted affectionately, especially the black female and a bright red male with black stripes. The kit yarped that them especially and Kieh concluded they were his parents.

“A little talkative but he’s got potential.” Mai said to him a little later while Kieh rested his head sleepily on the bar. Mai was testing the little one’s reflexes by gesturing with one hand to keep its attention and slapping at it with the other. It caught onto his game fairly quickly.

“Hey Mira!” Mai called down the bar. The woman looked up from her washing.

“What?” Mai casually gestured to the kit.

 “What’s his name?” She glanced at him, smiled and called back: “Shuun.” Mai nodded slowly, scrubbing the kit’s head with his hand. It purred like a barn cat.

 “How much?” She dropped her wash rag and wiped her hands on her apron, swishing over to them.

“It’s your bitch.” She said conversationally.

 “It’s your todd.” He replied in the same light way. She shrugged, looking at the pup.

“Mmm… twenty crickets.” The kit yarped indignantly. She smiled.

“Thirty then.” Mai chuckled, picking the little one up and weighting him.

 “Deal.” He set the kit down and dug coins out of his pocket, counting until he had thirty and pushing them at her. She recounted and tucked them into her apron.

“Good luck. He’s a monster.” Mai nodded and smiled.

“I like monsters.” He smiled coyly and she rolled her eyes, swishing away. Mai picked up the kit and plopped it into Kieh’s arms.

“Happy birthday.” He said cheekily.

“It’s not my birthday.” He replied sorely and pushed the kit back. It yarped at him. Mai shoved it back toward him.

“He’s yours. I already have a dog.” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the black female who was calmly washing the blue-grey kit’s ears. She looked at Mai and yarped, then returned to her washing. Kieh sighed looking at the kit.

“Fine. Only because I like you.” Mai batted his eyelashes at Kieh, glanced around quickly and placed a peck on his cheek. Kieh blushed and looked at the kit to hide his embarrassment. It yarped at him. He grunted back at it.

“What are we doing today?” Mai glanced at him skeptically.

“I’m going out. Got things to do. You’re going to go upstairs and sleep, then come down here and eat a midday meal, and then sleep some more and then eat again. You’re probably going to do this for a few days before I ask you to do anything else. If you’re going to hunt with me you need to be in top condition. Rest a while, get your strength back. _Watch_ your kit.” He nodded to the kit in Kieh’s arms and Kieh sighed.

“What should I do with him while I’m sleeping?” Mai shrugged.

“Keep him in the room. He’ll get bored and sleep if you sleep. You can shove him off on Sahn, but I don’t think she’d like that.” He glanced at the black female who was now following the white and blue-grey kits around protectively, steering them away from trouble.

“She’s yours?” Mai glanced at Kieh and back to the black female.

“Yep. Left her here last time I went up north because she got knocked up. I think she’s mad at me. But after she gets rid of those two she’ll probably be back at my side again. She’s a good mother though.” He glanced at the kit now sitting obediently on Kieh’s lap.

“Got good genes, though I think those two are lacking…” He chuckled, finished his coffee and stood up, stretching.

“You be good now. Don’t cause any trouble for poor Mira. She’s got too much on her mind already.” He chuckled and patted Kieh’s hair gently before sauntering out of the establishment. Kieh sighed and looked down at the kit. It yarped at him. He scrubbed it’s ears with the heel of his hand and it purred. He was afraid it would grow on him. It yarped at him again and decided it probably wouldn’t. It’s noises were too annoying.

Three hours later it was yarping again. He’d slept for about an hour before it started yarping. He’d let it out and it had yarped to come back in. He’d let it in and it had jumped on him. Then it had yarped again. He shoved it off of him and it was quiet for a while. Then it yarped again. For being the size of a small house cat it was increasingly annoying. He finally rolled out of bed again and opened the door for it. It ran out into the hall and then looked at him, wagging it’s tail. It yarped at him again, ran back to him and grasped the leg of his trousers in it’s teeth, tugging. Then it yarped and squirmed. He scratched his bare ribs and shrugged.

“What? You have to pee?” It yarped again as if affirming and ran down the hall. He shuffled after it.

“He’ll be mine by tomorrow night.” Mira’s voice drifted to him through the window. He meandered after the kit and it had led him to a side door which had opened into a little fenced yard. Now it was sniffing around, trying to find a suitable place to pee. Mira was in the kitchen with Nala and two other girls, he could see them through the dusty window. Nala could see him, he knew, and brushed her face, making a small ‘hush’ symbol to him. He nodded and leaned a little closer, listening.

“I’m telling you, he wants me. I mean, how could he not? I’m so good to him. He’s always bringing those crazy guys of his around those. Jack was a nutcase, I swear. And this new kid, Michael or whatever, he’s a bit weird. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was an invert. I don’t know why he brings people like that around. Why does he want anything to do with them? They’re so…” Mira shivered with emphasis and kneaded the dough she had angrily.

“Maybe he’s an invert, ma’am.” One of the girls suggested quietly but was drowned out by Mira’s yelling.

 “Of course he isn’t! A man that beautiful can only like women. How dare you even think that! Never. Matthew will be mine. Tomorrow night. Even if he is an invert he won’t want to look at another man once I’m done with him.” Mira’s grin was evil and it made Kieh blanch. It was disturbing. He looked down at the kit, who’d marked a bush and then sat obediently at his foot. He picked it up and shuffled back inside.

 

It insisted upon laying with him, so he stroked it’s fur, more out of comforting himself then anything. It chirped and purred and ‘yuffed’ at him. It would curl into a ball and then stretch out in the next minute. It wanted to sit on his chest but he wouldn’t let it. It couldn’t get comfortable by his legs and it tickled him when it burrowed into his armpit. He wouldn’t let it sit out on his pillow and didn’t want to play with it when it nipped at his trousers. He let it mouth his fingers and lick his arm when it wanted to but wouldn’t let it snuggle with him. It was so very confused. Did he like it or not? He seemed very distressed. It wanted to comfort him. He wouldn’t let it. It wanted to play with him. He pushed it away. It wanted to be close to him. He wanted to be alone. It finally gave up, sitting on the edge of the bed and whining at him, pawing at him and frowning. He glanced at it, sighed, then back up at the ceiling. It jumped on him, crawled onto his chest and looked at him, yarping. He lifted a hand and it flinched, knowing he would push it away. He looked at him, bitter sorrow crossing his face. He placed his hand on its back and stroked it gently, his face not as hard, not as imposing. It lay down and put its chin on his collar. He smiled a little and pulled the thin blanket up over both of them.  His sigh was less annoyed now and he closed his eyes. So it closed its eyes. It chirped at him comfortingly and then let its self sleep.

Kieh woke a while later to Nala shuffling into the room with blankets in her arms. She looked at the neglected second bed and then prodded him into wakefulness. “Change sheets. Now.” He grumbled something, sat up and felt the kit tumble off his chest. He immediately felt bad and picked it up, rubbing it’s ears and standing, letting Nala strip the bed and put on clean sheets.

“Heard Mira talking earlier did you? Going to warn your Mai?” He shrugged

. “I might. I don’t know.” The kit squirmed and he set it down, watching it run around the bed to tug on Nala’s skirts. She giggled and shooed it away.

“You should. She plans on bedding him. Thinks she has a chance. Kit’s annoying. You should teach him better.” She glared at the kit as she pushed it away with her foot and he bent to scoop it up.

“Sorry. I might tell Mai. I think he can handle himself though.”  Nala shrugged.

“Mira is very stubborn. Like an ass. She won’t give up.” He nodded and sat back down on the bed again, new sheets feeling crisp and cool against his skin.

“I know. Thank you.” She smiled at him, letting her eyes drift over his chest.

“You are welcome.” She blushed and scurried out. The kit took it’s spot on his chest again. He smiled at it.

“Let me tell you something, buddy. Don’t ever fool with girls. They’re an odd sort.” It just yarped at him and curled up, snoring lightly. He pulled the blanket over them again.

“Hey. Wake up.” He was startled awake by Mai’s hands on his shoulders, shaking him. He blinked blearily and groaned. “Lemme ‘lone.” He rolled over, cuddling the kit in his arms sleepily. It yuffed a protest but settled back into sleep. Mai shook him again.

“Hey. Time to eat. You didn’t eat lunch did you? I told you to. Get up!” He grabbed his shoulders and shook him again and Kieh sat up, glaring at him.

“You also told me to sleep, but you’re not letting me do that now are you?” He immediately regretted his words. Mai was white faced like he’d seen a ghost. He stuttered a little then sighed and crawled up onto Kieh’s lap, taking the kit from it’s spot in his arms and holding it. Kieh let him.

“Mira just tried to kiss me…” He muttered quietly and Kieh brushed his lips across Mai’s forehead.

 “She’s after you. Going to try to make you her’s.” Mai shuttered.

“That’s so gross. So… so gross.” He nuzzled his face against Kieh’s collar and scratched the kit behind the ears. It could tell he was distressed and tried to lick his face, whining. Mai rubbed it, trying to be soothing. Kieh pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Why not just tell her you have a wife up north?” Mai looked up at him.

 “Really? You’d let me say that?” Kieh shrugged.

“Sure.” Mai frowned, looking down at the kit.

“But I don’t have a ring.” He muttered and Kieh smiled, nuzzling his hair.

“I do.”

 

Mai watched him as he dug through the pack. He pulled out his things,

specifically the locket and popped it open. Inside were two plain silver rings. He took the larger one and turned to Mai, smiling.

“It was my fathers. Here, try it.” He slipped it onto his finger and smiled. It was a little big, but it fit. Mai ogled at it.

“It’s pretty…” He ran his finger over the worn surface. Kieh took the other ring from the locket, his mothers and held it out to Mai in his hand. Mai looked at it, then the one on his hand and made a small ‘o’ with his lips.

“They’re so pretty…” His eyes were like childish saucers, watching the way the light glinted off the aged silver, the tiny designs swirling across the surface, the small imperfections and rivulets that passed across the face, the spot worn dull on his mother’s where she would thumb it when worried. Mai looked up at Kieh, putting his mother’s ring back in his hand.

“Wait, are you giving this one to me?” He slipped the silver ring off his finger and shoved it at Kieh.

“I can’t take it! It was your parent’s! I can’t take that from you Kieh…” Kieh just chuckled and shook his head, perching on the edge of the bed next to Mai. He took his hand again and slipped the ring back onto his finger.

“You’re not taking it.  I’m giving it to you.” He pressed his lips gently to Mai’s, curling his hand and pushing it up against his chest.

“I’ll be your wife.” He flashed his mother’s ring at Mai and Mai blushed, then giggled.

“Okay. I like that… my wife. My _shuntanka.”_ Kieh liked that too. He liked that a lot.

 


	14. Love

Mai fidgeted with the ring while they ate, spinning it on his finger worryingly every time Mira glanced at him. Kieh put his hand on the man’s thigh, squeezing lightly and reassuringly. Mai looked at him, sighed a little and looked down at his food. Shuun yarped at him. He scratched the kit’s ears absently.

“So, Matthew.” Mira leaned over the bar, pushing her bust out not-so-nonchalantly. Mai gulped nervously.

 “Why don’t you come see me tonight? It’s got to be so lonely at night without a woman in your bed.” Her eyes flashed coyly and Mai set his jaw.

“Mira, you’re a friend, nothing more. I have a wife.” He held up his hand to show the ring and she gawped at him like a fish.

“What!? When did this happen!?” Her hands smacked the table in disbelief and Shuun yarped. She slapped at the kit angrily and Kieh grabbed it, pulling it into his lap.

 

“Just recently actually. Guess you should have been a little faster.” Mai’s words were cold. He looked down at his food dismissively and Kieh watched her go with a smirk unknowingly painted on his lips. Mai reached under the bar and squeezed his knee, and Kieh caught the grin he flashed him. The kit chirped happily. Mai rubbed it’s head and finished his mead.

“Meet me up stairs when you’re done eating.” He almost purred and Kieh could feel a jump in him. The sultry way Mai slunk off was enough to make his food stick in his throat, his face go hot. Shuun whined at him. He scrubbed the kit’s head and took a fevered swallow of his mead. He took a deep breath, for the first time in days, maybe a week, noticing the itch in his palms. Damn, he wanted a cigarette.

Mai was stretched out comfortably on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles, arms arranged behind his head. His clear blue eyes were on the window, staring out at the grey-green sky.

“It’s going to rain.” He muttered quietly, his voice silky and smooth, easy. Kieh set the kit down on the other bed and moved to Mai’s side, suddenly feeling awkward and confused. Mai reached up to him, his fingers brushing his neck, arms too short to cup his cheek so he ran his hand down his collar and placed it above Kieh’s heart, feeling it pound inside him. That made the thing in his chest twitch. He forced it away. He didn’t want to share this with anyone. He reached up and covered Mai’s hand with his, then lowered himself onto the bed, first onto his knees, then straddling the man. Mai blushed at this and batted his eyes prettily.

 _“Do you love me, Kieh?”_ The words were whispers as he buried his face in Mai’s nape.

 _“Yes.”_ Was his simple reply. His lips were soft, ghosts of kisses trailing across the blonde’s skin, teeth nipping sensitive spots and tongue flicking at heated veins, the beginnings of moans rising in Mai’s throat and getting caught there. But Kieh’s teeth teased them out, and Mai’s hands, soft on his back, were soon tangled in his hair.

 _“Kieh. Oh Kieh…”_ The sound of his name coming off of Mai’s tongue made Kieh shift, dragging his hips down, off of Mai’s and pulling his legs up, hips pivoted under Mai’s and Mai groaned at the feeling of Kieh’s tongue on his nipple. Kieh was surprised at this sudden change, and liked it. He liked being in this position, above Mai, controlling him, but not. It was delicate, he was in control of the pleasure, but if he did something wrong Mai could simply push him away. Of course he could probably over power the man, but that wouldn’t be right, because he wanted Mai to enjoy this. He was also nervous because he’d never done it this way. Ever. It was scary, he didn’t know what to do and it scared him. But Mai’s moans pushed him on, teasing his nipples with shaky fingers and gentle teeth, hand brushing feather light over his skin, barely there. When he reached the hem of Mai’s trousers he paused, hesitant. Was this what Mai wanted? Was he doing this correctly? He didn’t know and he hated not knowing.

 _“What’s wrong?”_ Mai’s voice startled him. He glanced up, his face parallel with Mai’s navel and the sight of the blush on Mai’s face, eyes heavily lidded and curious.

 _“I… I don’t really know what I’m doing… I mean I do, it’s just...”_ His chuckle was nervous and Mai smiled mercifully.

 _“It’s not that hard. I want you to.”_ Mai’s laugh was little and breathy, it hitched when Kieh’s fingers brushed the hollow of his hip and he kissed the bone there. Kieh steeled to himself for a moment and then lucidly undid the ties on Mai’s trousers and slowly, gently, worked them off his hips.

 The sight that greeted him was wonderful. Soft blonde curls cradled Mai’s manhood, cushioning it as it flagged, eager for someone to touch it. _Taste_ it. He grasped it in tantalizingly cold fingers and Mai bucked, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Kieh grinned at this, laving his tongue over the head and liking the sounds Mai made. He contemplated swallowing it but had a better idea. Pinching it in a way he knew would make Mai shudder he worked the ties on his pants and slid them off of his hips, bringing his hips over Mai’s and opening his hand to fit himself next to Mai and grinding their members together. Mai gasped, grasping at the sheets and then latching onto Kieh’s arms, pulling him down to crush their mouths together. Tongues danced and they swallowed each other’s moans as Kieh rubbed them together in his hand. Mai shuddered, his nails digging into Kieh’s scalp as his back arched, muscles spasming as he released.

The sensation of feeling Mai climax against him brought Kieh over the edge and he too shuddered and gasped, gripping hard, almost painfully as he released his seed onto Mai’s stomach, their fluids mingling in a sticky line.  He looked down at the mess and wanted to do something about it but when he looked back at Mai his face was already slack with sleep. He couldn’t resist the breathy chuckle that left him as he reached around in the half light; the sky turned a scary blue-grey with rippling clouds marring the horizon. Rain splattered the window as he grasped his discarded tunic off the floor and used it to clean the sticky residue off of his lover. He would have licked it if Mai had been watching but the man was out, a light snoring rising out of his throat. He pulled Mai’s trousers back up on his hips, taking extra care to tuck his manhood away and then pulling his own coverings back on, not bothering with the ties. He didn’t want that restriction yet. He snuggled down with Mai, the blonde babbling sleepily as he wrapped his arms around Kieh’s neck and nuzzling there. Kieh smiled gently, kissing his hair.

 _“I love you too…”_ was his murmur before he slipped into a quiet sleep.

 

~*~


	15. Burnings

Shuun’s yarping and the sound of fist pounding on the door woke him some time later. Kieh opened his green eyes blearily, greeted by the sight of thundering rain and flashing lightning. He stumbled out of bed and to the door. Nala was there, panic stricken.

“The barn’s caught fire.” Her voice was oddly calm and Kieh’s breath caught in his throat. He spun around, seeing Mai blinking sleepily at him.

“What?” He muttered and Kieh looked to Shuun.

“ _Stay._ The barn’s on fire.” He turned then and raced out with Nala, Mai on his heels, the door slamming shut and the sound of the kit’s yarping echoing down the hallway.

The barn was behind the tavern and was truly aflame, black smoke billowing up despite the rain. The sound of horse’s screams could be heard from inside the tavern as they sloshed out into the mud and watched one of the native boys, the one that had taken their horses to the barn the first night, came crashing out with a little paint pony in tow. Mai looked at Kieh, panicked, and Kieh just looked back, cool determination in his eyes.

 _“Please don’t.”_ Mai whispered and Kieh shook his head.

 _“I won’t let them die.”_ He replied, charging into the burning stable. Mai’s scream could be heard behind him.

It was chaos inside, horses panicked and terrified, screaming, and fire roaring, raging back. He covered his mouth with his arm and was grateful for the soaking the rain had given him but it was quickly evaporating. The thing inside him stirred. _What do I do?_ He asked it and it rumbled. _Use the wind…_ the voice that came to him was tired, weak, but he felt a feeble power stirring in him. Something nearby stomped its hooves, snorting and kicking, a structure bursting apart in a whirl of flame and coals. Kieh mustered up whatever he could and willed the fire to blow away, feeling a breeze tickle his cheeks, nice and cool, swirling the smoke away.

The horse before him was huge, dark brown with a white underbelly, massive hooves stamping the ground angrily. It looked ready to charge him and he would have rathered it did, run out by its self. But it didn’t, he could see an ugly red burn on it’s flank and the pain in its eyes. He held up his hands, coughing against the smoke and willed the breeze with comfort it, to cool it’s hot hide. He reached up, took it’s lead and it nudged him with it’s muzzle, watching him intently.

 _“I’ll get you out. Don’t worry.”_ He pulled it forward, toward the blazing other end of the barn and trying to steer it out. It thrashed it head at the blaze, coals clattering down from above and sizzling as they peppered it’s shoulder. It screeched, kicking out and tossing another beam down. Kieh winced and tugged it, leading it limping down the aisle and out of the barn. It made a noise half way between pain and relief as the rain splattered it’s hide.

 _“Maia! Maia!”_ He was startled to see a large, black shape running at him, it’s own hooves turning the mud. Munka took the lead from him and steered the horse farther away from the barn, looking at the nasty burns on it’s side. He looked back at Kieh with solemn thanks in his eyes. Kieh nodded and ran back into the flaming barn.

Wind rustled around his ankles, chasing burning coals away from his bare feet, steering bursts from his skin. He could hear it hiss and crackling angrily, trying to get at him but the wind wouldn’t let it.

The palomino mare was sharing a stall with Meiko, both trapped by a fallen beam that crackled with heat. Kieh glared at it, trying to calm it but the wind just irritated it. Meiko’s scream was more anger then fear. He kicked out, shattering the wall on the other side of him but that did nothing to get him out. He watched the native boy run by him, skidding to a stop next to him.

 _“Leave them. There’s nothing we can do.”_ Kieh shook his head and the boy just pursed his lips.

 _“You’ll die standing here like this.”_ Kieh shook his head again and ruffled the boy’s short hair with the wind, enveloping them both in a cool breeze.  The boy’s eyes widened and Kieh looked back to Meiko. The steed’s dark eyes were on his.

 _“Kick it dammit!”_ He screeched without realizing it and the stallion reared, hooves slicing the air and coming down hard on the trapping beam. It fell to pieces before him and Kieh blew dirt over it, smothering it. Meiko surged forward and Kieh grasped his lead, keeping him from racing off in the wrong direction. He screamed, stomping his hooves and the boy grabbed the mare, who’d followed, panicking.

 _“Come on. I can feel it coming down.”_ The boy gaped.

  _“There are foals back there! I have to get them out!”_ They looked at each other for a tense moment and then Kieh nodded, taking the mare’s lead from the boy and tugging both horses back out of the barn. The boy charged away.

There was a roaring like a tiger and a beam crashed down in front of them, sparks flying everywhere. It took all his concentration to blow them back away from the horses, which cried out fearfully and wrenched his arms painfully. His eyes were on the beam, the firecat stalking on it. He never seen a tiger but it looked close, massive head and shoulders, long tail, riddled with stripes, eyes like blue coals, pelt swirling. It opened its mouth and hissed sparks at him, tail lashing. The horses stamped their feet fearfully as the cat slashed a massive paw at them, roaring. He could feel the heat wafting off of it, rage rolling off of its terrifying visage. It snarled and he jumped out of fright.

The wind swirled around him, snapping and snarling back. Ghostly paw steps pattered against the ground and the visages of windy wolves appeared at the edges of his vision, stalking at the firecat, jaws snapping. It looked at them and hissed, almost looking frightened. He could feel the wolves calming presence, their cooling breath keeping his skin from boiling. The horses jostled against him, afraid and relieved at the same time, their hides on the verge of burning from the heat. The cool wind was welcome.

The first shape leapt at the firecat and it batted it away with its paw, causing the wind to whine and groan.  The second and third buffeted it, and then the first, and again and again the charged, whipping away parts of it, sending coals splaying in it’s wake and bursts flaring. It hissed and screeched and finally with a dying snarl fell. The wind spread it’s coals and cooled them, inviting Kieh to bring the horses across. He felt the barn shudder and hurried, trying not to think of the subtle burn on his bare feet as he walked.

The mud outside felt good on his feet and he basked in the misting rain, wind still rolling around him, but now it seemed natural rather than the wind wolves that had fought off the firecat. He could feel the steam rising off his hot flesh as the rain hissed against it, Meiko throwing his head gratefully, smelling very much of seared meat and hair. He let their leads drop and moved to check their hides for burns. Meiko’s luxurious mane was in burnt patches, sear marks vivid against his neck, pungent maroon. He had burns striping his legs where he’d kicked the beam, but none other than peppering from the coals. Nala brought soaked towels to drape over them and wrap around their legs. The palomino was tender footed and had parts of her tail missing, as well as a burn on her shoulder but seemed fine otherwise. Nala said they’d take her around back and lay her down so she wouldn’t lame.

The boy came out at last, two foals and a mare in tow, a feat to be hold, just as the barn came down. The mare spooked, dashed off and the foals scattered, Meiko screamed and there was much shouting as people ran about the yard, grabbing scared horses and trying to calm them. He could hear someone wailing and found it was Mira, who’d flung herself into her ginger daughter’s arms. Mai stood nearby, watching him with none other than Shan and Munka, the incubus tending to his massive mare and Shan rubbing the nose of his white gelding comfortingly. Kieh looked down at Meiko’s legs, wrapped in cold towels and led the horse across the muddy yard gently, coming to stand by them. Mai touched his arm gently, comforting, and glanced at Shan. Kieh gave the shaman a sharp glare and he nodded, his silver hair plastered against his forehead, line creasing his face wearily. He knew what the look meant. I’m not your god. Leave me alone.

Inside it was quiet and cool. He was given cold towels for his body and his hair was wrapped in one to keep it from damaging, Mai said, and he relished the cool relief on his burning scalp. Mai watched him worriedly as Mira brought him a cup of water, tears still rolling down her cheeks. The native boy sat nearby, nursing a bad burn on his hand.

 _“Thank you.”_ Kieh looked at him and nodded.

 _“Did you lose any?”_ The boy shook his head.

 _“No, thanks to you. Mira’s just mad about the barn. It’ll cost a hundred fifty mints for a new one.”_ Kieh shuddered, giving the boy a sympathetic look.

 _“I’m very sorry.”_ He muttered quietly and the boy nodded.

 _“Me too.”_ Was his solemn reply. Mai put his hand on Kieh’s arm gently. Kieh gave him a weak smile, coughed and sipped his water gently.

 

 _“We’re staying down the hall. We’ll probably go soon, to Rah, and talk to the elders there. We’ll return in a few moons to see if you’ve changed your mind.”_ Shan’s words were sad and Kieh nodded, feeling bad for the shaman.

 _“I’m sorry. It’s just so much to take in at one time. I’m sure I’ll come around in time.”_ Shan nodded and limped wearily down the hallway, staggering more out of exhaustion then hurt. Kieh shuffled into the room and shut the door behind him.

The kit immediately started yarping at him, struggling out of Mai’s arms to leap on him. He held it, let it lick his ash stained face and then put it down on the bed, letting it drink from his water cup, knowing the ash wasn’t good for it. It drank, then yarped, burped and jumped on him. He held it absently with one hand and sipped the water, perching on the side of the bed. Mai took his time taking the towels from his shoulders and flipping them over to press the cool side against his skin. His shoulders were an angry red and his stomach was peppered from the coals. His cheeks and nose burned, his eyes stung and watered and he felt like his lungs were made of sandpaper. Every breath was sawdust, every exhale was a wheeze. His shoulders hunched painfully as he coughed and settled into hacking up a glob of ashy saliva, which he spit into a flower vase on the stand next to the bed. He expected Mai to be disgusted with him but the man just looked on with caring indifference. He went to the window and opened it, letting cool fresh air roll in. It felt nice on his paper lungs and sucked in a few gasps before the wheezing stopped.  He sneezed and Mai chuckled.

“I’m very proud of you, Kieh.” He murmured, his breath hot on Kieh’s tender neck. For once he didn’t like it. Mai saw that and back off, placing an arm around his shoulders and smiling gently. Kieh felt it best not to reply for his voice would probably be hoarse and unattractive. Mai seemed okay with that. He simply held Kieh gently as Kieh rubbed the kit and then helped him lay down, covering him with the thin sheet. He moved away to pull back the blankets of the other bed and Kieh whimpered indignantly. Mai just chuckled.

“You don’t need my body heat making your burns worse tonight, love. I’ll be here, don’t worry.” Kieh nodded and watched Mai crawl into the other bed and turn off the lamp. Kieh whimpered again and Mai breathed a laugh.

 “Sleep Kieh. You’ll feel better in the morning.” He sighed and closed his eyes, arms clasped around the kit which snuggled against him, letting the patter of the rain lull him. Sleep took him like a feather taken to the wind. Gently. Softly. Whisked him away without a care into a particularly deep sleep.

 

~*~

 


	16. Dreams

He was somewhere dark and cold, noise roaring around him. Just noise, blank and formless. It battered his eardrums, irritated and made him angry, made his thrash about, howl and keen for it to stop. His limbs flailed uselessly against the walls of his prison, claws glancing off of the hard surface. The noise got louder and louder and a light appeared, as if at the end of a tunnel and he ran toward if franticly, trying desperately to escape the hell he was in.

The lights blinded him and the noise defended him and he thrashed his head, trying the think but he couldn’t. Something was prodding him and it angered him. He blinked the blurriness out of his eyes and was greeted by the sight of a dirt field in front of him, surrounded on all sides by stands of people, screaming and shouting at him. It made him angry, made him snarl and froth and back away. But he was greeted with a wall. He snarled as something prodded him again, swiping his claws in its direction but the hooded man jumped back, a long wooden spear held in his hands. Another one prodded him from the other side. He growled and leapt at it though he was knocked away by its spear.

Something growled at him and looked up to see a young man standing there, lips curled in a snarl and a wooden club held in his hands. He could have easily leapt onto the man and ripped him apart but the club deterred him. He didn’t want to be beaten down. The hooded men prodded him again and he leapt forward, away from them and took a swipe at the man, ducking the club as it swung at his head and sinking his teeth into the man’s arm. The blood tasted good. He gripped it with his teeth, ripping, trying to take the man’s arm apart but gasped at the blinding thud of the man’s club. A swift kick to the gut made him release his hold and another ear popping blow from the club made him whine, made him kick and lay still. He received another kick and felt the man’s spit hit his cheek, the roaring growing into a crescendo. He whined low in his throat, closing his eyes, willing it all to be over. An image appeared behind his eyes. An image of blue-grey eyes and white skin, sun yellow hair and freckles. It made his heart ache. Made him keen. The blows he received from the hooded men pushed it out of his mind though, pushed everything but the will to survive out.

 

~*~


	17. Old Friends

Kieh woke in a cold sweat, terrified. The dream had seemed so real. Like a memory. But he didn’t know anyplace like that. It was an arena, a place for fighting. But that hadn’t been fighting, just the beating of one poor creature. It had been cruel and cold and senseless and Kieh’s ribs ached as if he’d been the one beaten. What was it? The thing in his chest rolled over uncomfortably and buried it’s self inside of him, as if afraid of him, or something else.

“Good morning.” Mai’s voice startled him and he jumped a little, displacing the kit from his chest and making his burns scream. He groaned.

 “Matter of opinion, love.” He replied quietly, squeezing his eyes shut against the throbbing aches. Mai clucked concernedly and slid out of the other bed, walking over to help him sit. He peeled the towels off to reveal large expanses of shiny blistering skin that ached and protested when touched.

“C’mon. We need to get these cooled off.” Mai helped him up, led him stumbling down the stairs and passed the commotion of the early morning diners and into the yard. The remains of the barn sat in a smoldering pile, thin trails of smoke still rising from the midst. The ground was dry though and Mai led him around the back of the tavern, the kit on their heels and into an area where three lean-too sheds stood enclosed by a fence. Four horses stood in the fenced area and a few more were standing in the shade. He could see the palomino mare lying down farther back. Meiko snorted a greeting to them where he stood next to a trough of water.

Early morning sun rising over the ridge cast everything in cool shadow, walls of rock still dripping with the residue of the night before. Mai took his time, letting Kieh sit on a bench on one side of the fence he took Meiko’s towels off, soaked them in the trough and replaced them on his shoulders, flanks and legs. He let Mai wrap a towel around his neck to help the burn there and allowed Mai to wash the ash from his face. Then he told Kieh to strip. Kieh blinked at him for a moment.

“What?” The word came out of his mouth without his consent.

“You heard me. Your trousers. Take them off. Do you need help?” He was startled by Mai’s words.

“No.” he replied rather blandly and fiddled with the ties on the front of his pants, peeling them off. Mai seemed to find no embarrassment in his nakedness and told him to sit on the bench again. He then dipped a bucket into the water and proceeded to pour it slowly over Kieh’s shoulders.

Kieh hissed as his skin smarted and sizzled, the pain sharp and icy, then dull and throbbing and soon numb as Mai continued to pour. He had Kieh lean back against the trough more so the water would wash back into the basin and thought it nice when the icy rivulets rolled off his shoulders and down his bare chest, cooling the hotly peppered flesh there. The water dribbled across his groin and made him shiver, slid across his thighs and made him shudder. Every part of him was hot, in more ways than one. He was very aware of Mai’s closeness to him, of his nakedness, of the subtle smile pulling at Mai’s lips. He was also aware of the cool breeze, the caress of the rising sun, the freshness in the air that hadn’t been there before. Birds sang somewhere higher up the rocky cliff and movement could be heard in town. There was lots of talk inside, even some laughter. The horses shifted their weight, snorted and nickered plaintively, pulled at their towels and nibbled the grass. Kits ran by yarping. Even the smoldering barn seemed to sigh as the wind scattered it’s ash almost sympathetically. Somewhere a dog barked, a woman sang as she hung her washing on the line, an ass hawed. The music of life surrounded him, engulfed him almost and he was surprised that he’d never been aware of it before. He’d never been happy like this before, utterly contented with himself. He could feel the thing inside him wiggling up, wanting a grasp a little bit of his happiness and he let it. He leaned his head back and let Mai pour water over his hair, soothing his scalp and pulling ash from it. He admired the clean lines of Mai’s face, the pointedness of his chin, the subtle strength of his jaw. Peach fuzz lined his cheeks and was turned golden copper in the early light, his hair streaked through with wheaten strands, turned such a light cornflower yellow. It was fluffy and clean atop his head, not going in any general direction as would be expected of hair yet to be combed but looked nice, ruffled gently by the wind. His skin was pale and creamy; sun freckled along the sloping bridge of his nose, so light it made the pale pink of lips dark in contrast. He liked the way his lips curved when he smiled, the tiny dimple that appeared on his left cheek, the way they were shaped perfectly for kissing. When he laughed he flashed beautiful straight white teeth and when he smiled it was enough to make Kieh’s heart ache. Mai was so perfect, especially the clear robin’s egg blue of his eyes. The way the sun offset the sapphire flecks within, cradled in dark lashes, perfectly set on either side of his nose. They were watching him now, sparkling with amusement, so clear he could see his reflection within.

“Kieh? You still with me Kieh?” He blinked, shook his head a little and sat up, all of sudden very aware of his arousal.

“Um… yes?” The heat of embarrassment rose to his cheeks and Mai laughed, tossing his trousers onto his lap modestly and grasping a towel off the fence to dry his hair. Kieh arranged his arms in his lap in a modest way and tried not to think about the dirty thoughts going through his mind. Mai just smiled, toweling him dry and then telling him to dress again. He did so, confining himself into his trousers and using the discomfort to try and rid himself of the hardness in his loins. It did little to help him. He pushed down his frustration and looked at Mai. He was gazing off toward the palomino mare.

“I’m going to check on her. You head inside okay? Get friendly with some people. I’ll probably head off before I come inside.” Kieh nodded gently and Mai smiled at him.

“I’m sorry, but work means money and money means comfort.” He nodded.

“You don’t… want me working do you?” Mai looked surprised and then frowned.

“Definitely not. But friends will do you good down here. Helps with work, you know.” Kieh nodded affirmatively, relieved. Mai sidled up to him, reached up and ruffled his hair.

“I’ll be back before the midday meal. Don’t worry.” Kieh leaned down and nuzzled his cheek, a smile painted on his face.

“I won’t.” Then he headed toward the back door.

Inside he took a seat next to the boy from the night before at the bar. His hand was wrapped where it had been burned and he looked to have an ugly red spot on his face. He gave Kieh a weak smile.

“Morning.” Kieh nodded back as the ginger girl set a plate of eggs and toast down for him along with some water.

“Morning to you too.” He pushed his eggs back and forth for a minute.

“I’m Kieh, by the way.” The boy smiled and held out his uninjured hand.

“Tamiko. Most call me Iko.” Kieh grasped the boy’s hand, a little smaller in size but not by much. He guessed the boy close to his own age, maybe even the same.

“You’re Greyfoot?” Iko nodded.

“ _Miocahya,_ yes. You’re _Minakoko_ then? Mai is.” Kieh grinned and shook his head.

“ _Shinani._ But only by birth. I don’t know where my tribe is. I was raised in a mission in Sawtooth.” Iko made a small ‘o’ with his mouth and nodded.

 “My mother was Greyfoot. She died when I was five. My father sent Nala and I here because he couldn’t feed us. I have four other brothers you see. I’m going back there for my _Akananhya._ My Ceremony of Manhood. Nala’s going to come back with me. She’s a nice girl you know.” Kieh chuckled, dropping his voice.

 _“She might be, but I’m not really one for girls.”_ His chuckle was echoed.

 _“Personally I’m not either.”_ They both laughed and looked up to see Nala frowning. Their attempt to be decent ended in giggles.

 _“Speaking of not interested in girls…”_ Iko nodded toward the man that had just walked into the tavern. He was Elvish, no doubt from the southern tundra with dun skin and brown-silver hair. His eyes glowed gold and his ears were long and tapering, studded with gold. He was clad in a leather vest, tight linen tunic and creamy black breeches. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder and the knife at his belt looked large and intimidating.

 _“Comes in a lot. Always works Tikaho hard and pays big. Real big.”_ Kieh raised an eyebrow.

“Tikaho?” Iko nodded to a young native in the corner booth nursing a flask. He looked older then Kieh, had an ugly scar over his nose but pretty otherwise.

 _“Mira works you kids?”_ Iko shook his head.

 _“Tikaho works himself. Likes the sex. And the money. All his regulars are pretty. He’d skip town with that man if he could.”_ Kieh looked back to the Elfish man and nodded.

 _“I can understand that. Worked Trine when I was young. Served an Elf once. Paid big for a little job. They have great respect for their whores.”_ Iko nodded, looking slightly empathetic.

 _“You ran north?”_ Kieh shrugged and pushed his eggs around again.

“I was young. Stupid. Should have gone south but I didn’t.” Iko grunted something that sort of sounded like a sympathetic acknowledgement.

“I’ll give you a tour of the town later if you’d like.” Kieh smiled at Iko when he stood, stretching.

“Gotta check the horses. You clean up and we’ll head out, okay?” Then he sauntered away. Kieh had to admit Iko was cute, if not for Mai he’d probably have flirted with the boy. Nala was watching him suspiciously. He glanced at the boy in the corner, the Elfish man also cast him a sideways glance but he was intent upon his flask. Kieh stood and rolled his shoulders, heading upstairs.

Shuun was waiting for him, scratching at the door. He ran into the room, around it once and yarped. Kieh rolled his shoulders, prodding the burned skin with tender fingers. It was shiny and tender but didn’t hurt too much. He slipped on his vest and boots. Shuun yarped at him again and he glanced at the pup. It was wiggling. He rolled his eyes and headed outside.

The Elvish man was there, letting his yerik, a deer-goat creature that elves bred, drink from the horse trough. Kieh went to check Meiko again, who seemed to particularly dislike the blue furred yerik. The man watched him with sharp golden eyes.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here.” His Eivanian was heavily accented but his voice was deep, a somber baritone. Kieh raised an eyebrow in his direction.

 “I don’t believe I know you.” The man chuckled breathily and he could feel the thing in his chest wiggling up out of it’s abyss, drawn by that voice, that laugh. It knew the man. He grimaced.

“You don’t recognize me? I wept over your last body.” Kieh could feel the thing coiling inside him with recognition but it pushed the tightness away.

“He doesn’t control me. But he lives in here.” Kieh looked the man right in the eyes and tapped his chest just below where his heart would be. The elf’s high eyebrows rose.

“I apologize.” Kieh shook his head.

 “It’s okay…” He trailed off, absently stroking Meiko’s snout. Pictures were moving behind his eyes.

The elf, much younger though still with brown-silver hair, crying over his body, then turned on him, screaming obscenities in a language he could not understand. Again laughing by a camp fire, a creature that he had not seen before sitting on the elf’s other side. It looked like an elf at first but it’s skin was more brown, deeper, like a liver to the elf’s flaxen, it’s hair long and black, tusks protruding from it’s lower lip and deep brown eyes sparkling with amusement. It’s ears were short and pointed, it’s limbs long and rangy but hands only bearing three fingers and a thumb. Orc. The thing in his chest put the word in his mind. An orc named Thrash. Then they were standing at the mouth of a huge dark cave and the elf’s hand slipped into his, shaking with fear and his own heart clenched. Then again the elf weeping over him, hands knotted in his shirt as his vision blurred, the memory of old pain throbbing inside of him. It all faded away after that.

He gave a shuddering gasp when released from the visions. They were not too old, maybe a hundred years, and they’re scars were fresh. That was the last body he’d surfaced in; blank and dying he’d taken it and turned it into something heroic. Then he’d died and been cast back into his void until he could cling to a new body and live again. He’d been offered Kieh and even though the boy was not blank but bright and shining he’d made room in his chest to harbor him and slept until time had called him back. Or maybe sheer loneliness. He didn’t know.  It surprised him the anguish this voice called out of the thing, the god or demon or entity inside of him. He hadn’t always been a god, but a creature twisted and tormented, tortured to the point of wishing for death. The image of the arena and the hooded men flashed in Kieh’s mind. He felt a shiver run up his spine at the thought.

“Do you remember?” He shuddered and shook his head sharply.

“He does. I don’t. But I know what he does.” The man nodded slowly, his gold eyes watching Kieh with honest suspicion, and then trusting understanding.

“My name is _Skrym_. Most call me Skar.” Kieh nodded at the thing twisted into his gut, causing his stomach to roll.

“Skrym. It’s nice to meet you.” Kieh held out a shaky hand and Skrym grasped it, steadying him.

 “Kieh. I’m Kieh.” Skrym nodded slowly and helped him sit on the very same bench he’d sat on this morning.

“What did you two do? It seemed very… painful.” Skrym laughed quietly.

“It was. It’s a very long story and I think, for you, now is not the best time.” Skrym looked at his yerik and then up at the sun.

“I’m late for a meeting. Tonight maybe, after dinner, we can talk.” The deer-goat bleated a little and shook it’s head, scrapping it’s hooves against the ground and Skrym sighed.

“It’s nice to know someone’s taking care of him, Kieh. He’s truly a broken creature.” The thing in him untwisted and recoiled in an odd jackknifing movement. Kieh gave him a short nod. Then the elf turned to his blue furred mount and fitted his foot smoothly into the loop of it’s stirrup and swung his long legs fluidly over it’s back. The yerik bleated and took off at a hopping gait that looked odd at first and then weirdly graceful. Kieh sighed and put his head in his hands. He could feel the wave of nausea that accompanied the on coming visions and let them come. He’d be damned if he fought this.

 

It was darkness first, then he could see small streams of light coming in from the dark. He hated the dark, he could feel it. Something lashed against his legs and his arms curled around him, a whimper coming from his lips. Arm arched in his ribs, in his stomach and in his head. He was in cage, he could see and there was a hooded man watching him stoically. He whimpered again and tried to move but his cage was too small and he was in the wrong position. Another figure appeared in his barred vision, one with cornflower hair and grey-blue eyes. Freckles. He liked freckles, he thought vaguely. The man turned from the hooded figure and knelt down to his level, staring at him through the bars. He knew vaguely that he’d talked to the other but hadn’t registered what was said. The man slipped his hand through the bars and rubbed his mismatched hair, patches of ebony black mixed with coyote scrub. He wore a forced smile. He said something but he couldn’t figure out what. He never really knew what they said. He’d known things his mother had said like ‘bad’ or ‘good’ but never anything substantial. He just whimpered. The man pulled his hand away and then returned it grasping something red and dripping. Meat. He took it in his mouth and chewed slowly, quietly. It felt good, so much better than the rotten scraps they gave him. The man rubbed his hair again.

_“I’ll get you out. I swear I’ll get you out of this place.”_

The visions blurred and smeared and fell away and Kieh came out of them gasping and clutching at the throbbing thing in his chest that wasn’t his heart. He coughed, bile rising in his throat and spit something disgusting and green onto the ground. Shuun yarped at it and then at him. It jumped up on his lap and chirped worriedly. Kieh sighed and dipped his hand into the trough before splashing water onto his face. Then he put his head in his hands and wept.

 

~*~

 


	18. New Friends

“Hey.” Iko greeted him quietly, looking at his worn face.

“Are you alright?” He shrugged.

“I don’t have a lot of space in my chest right now. I’ll be okay.” Iko gave him an odd glance and then shrugged.

 “Come on.” He motioned toward the two.

 

Red Ridge was small, but wide with a main street and adjacent residential streets. People talked happily to one another and there wasn’t a white uniform in site. “

The Ridge operates under tribe law. To the government it seems like there are Officers here because they’re registered and they collect taxes but other than that they don’t do shit.” Kieh laughed a little.

“That’s funny. I don’t think Officers do shit anywhere.” They both chucked at that.

“Come here.” Iko waved him over to a little stand off to one side of the road between two shops. They were serving various foods on sticks. Iko rattled off something quick in Eivanian that Kieh didn’t catch and then paid for two sticks of oddly smelling meat.

“Here. Try this.” He handed one of the skewers to Kieh who sniffed it a little.

“It’s not gonna kill you.” He shrugged and took a bite. It was sweet and gamey and a little weedy.

 “What is it?” He asked as he knelt down to pull a little off the stick to give to Shuun who licked it off his fingers eagerly.

“Bush rat.” Kieh snorted and looked at him. Iko nodded.

 “Seriously.” He pointed and Kieh followed the line of this finger. Hanging from the roof of the stand were small rabbit-rat creatures of a gray color with half long ears and tuff of fur at the ends of their tails. Of course they were dead. Kieh felt mildly better. They weren’t rat rats they were rabbit rats. Which made them okay to eat in his mind.

“This is Market Street. Shops are that way, the Tailor and the Blacksmith and the Gunsmith and such. The Livery’s back that way-“ Iko turned and pointed back down the dusty road they’d come from. “- and the mines are down this road a ways. The Jeweler’s down here too.” Iko was leading the way down the road toward where he’d said the mines where.

 “What mines?” Iko nodded vaguely in the direction of a rise and a complying of hills.

“The ruby mines. You didn’t think this town got its name from the sand did you?” Kieh shrugged and Iko grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

They walked down the dusty roads for a while, Iko chattering on about this or that, about the natives here or the Eivanians or the elves or something else. A kappa he’d once met and the djinn that lurked in the dark recesses of this seemingly harmless town. He knew lots of things Kieh didn’t know. Things about the weather like how it was cool and dry (though Kieh thought it was bloody hot) and that meant no rain for a while, but dryness could mean a sand storm but only hot and dry not cool and dry. He talked on and on. Kieh liked it. Iko was one of the first people he’d talked to that didn’t hate him. He was almost his friend…

They’d been walking down a thin winding road for a while with just the desert around them and the town far behind when they started into the canyon lands just beyond the ridge. The road was thin and worn by horse hooves and wooden tires and the canyon walls rose up around him and gullies veered off from every which direction. Iko talked about lots of things, like a bobcat track and the cactus flowers and how they should pick them because they sell for two crickets right now and the color oF the rocks, how it was dark and moist and it made the air not dry enough to crack you lips or burn your nose but it wasn’t humid either. The sun made waves in the air rise not twenty yards ahead of them when they could see that far. The rocks were deep red pocked with green bushweeds and squat cactus with purple blooms that smelled pungently. It was beautiful. All of it. The desert had a harsh beauty, a mosaic set in red sandstone and lush green weeds and violet cacti and the trickle of a stream running in a flat sheet down the rock face at one bend.

“This is our home.” Iko said suddenly, his eyes also on the stream. “This is _Ahya_.” Kieh followed his eyes to the shimmering wall, seeing they’re reflections distorted in the face of it.

“Or it was…” He turned away and Kieh looked at him.

“Was it?” The thing stirred inside of him for the first time all day. He let it stir but kept a wall to keep it from stirring too much. Iko looked at him somewhat blankly.

“You don’t know the history?” He shook his head. No one had ever told him. The kitchen women at the mission weren’t allowed. Iko looked at him incredulously and then up at the sky. The sun was peaking just passed noon, placing the time just passed 2 o’clock. He scuffed a rock with his shoe and then started walking again.

“I don’t know much about it really…” He started as they continued walking.

 

“What my father told me was that the Eivanians weren’t hostile in the beginning, but there was a small war before the leaving of the gods when they settled New Eivana. That was mostly with the Incubi though and Miylan. Then the Eivanians moved into the upper territory and slowly drove the people out. It wasn’t an organized war like it had been in Rah. It was more of them killing and us trying to defend ourselves. They then founded Milado which later became the Northern State. Then they crossed the mountains and came down into Ahya, which began the leaving of the gods. You know about that right?” Kieh took a moment in nod his head and Iko took a breath.

“Well when that was all over they just stuck us all onto reservations and created the Southern Province, which at that time was called Lower Milado. Then they had a fight with Yrthrall but they lost that war and Yrthall decided to play truce with them and formed Upper and Lower Yrthrall. And that’s where they stopped advancing. They’re too scared of Yrthall to do anything more. And that was two hundred years ago. The people only remember because the elves told us about it. It’s kinda sad actually.” Kieh nodded a little. He hadn’t known the political stuff but Shan had told him of the leaving of the gods and those things when he’d asked.

“The mines are this way.” Iko’s step picked up when they came to a fork in the road and he took the wider path.

“I’m not old enough to work in the mines. You have to be a man before you can get a real job around here.” Kieh made a noise of understanding. So he could work in these mines. If he wanted to. Which he doubted he did. He trotted along with Iko wondering about what sort of work Mai was doing right now.

A huge canyon opened up before him as they rounded one bend. It was a high walled rounded opening with no outlet. The ground dipped here, hollowed out by human hands and the walls pocked with caves, manmade roads zigzagging up the walls, tracks laid down for the mine carts running down the center of each one. Men, most of dark skin where clad in gray-brown mine garb, most bare chested with the tops of their jumpsuits tied around their middles. They wore garish yellow helmets and their ebony hair was plastered across their foreheads, chests and shoulders. The workers the two could see where hauling loads of foggy red rock out of carts and onto horse drawn wagons. A couple called to Iko in recognition before going back to their jobs. Every one of them shone with sweat.

“My father works in mine 23.” Iko’s voice hinted on excitement as they crossed the natural made quarry. Each mine had a numbed carved into the rock next to them. Almost straight across the canyon was number 23. Iko paused at a creaking rumbled sound that the wide black hole emitted as they approached. Then two carts rolled out along with seven men, followed by a cloud of beige colored dust. They were all laughing and hollering to one another. One, the eldest, looked angry and a few of the younger looked scared but the rest, four men of about nineteen, where bent over with laughter as if they’d shared some hilarious joke. Iko walked a few swift steps to meet that of the eldest man, one of the mid thirties with a creased and frowning face, scared cheeks and arms and a body like a lean mountain lion. He had a broad twisting tattoo over his right pectoral and trailing down his shoulder and back. He was frowning at the laughing men.

“What happened?” Iko looked at the older man who’s frown deepened.

 “A support beam snapped. Nothing that’s gonna bring the mine down but we can’t work in the dust. Who’s your friend?” Iko glanced at Kieh.

“This is Kieh. He’s _Shinani._ From out of town. I was showing him around.” The elder nodded.

 “Take these idiots somewhere, will you? Swimming or something. I have to talk to my supervisor.” Then the older man stalked off. Iko whistled to the laughing men who were starting to calm.

“Come one, _micani._ Let’s get out of here.” The men laughed at him.

“Who are you calling _micani_ Small One?” Iko snorted and accepted a playful punch on the arm from the offender, a tall darkly skinned man of twenty with dark eyes and red tattoos covering his arms.

 “Whatever Miki….” Iko shot back half heartedly, blushing lightly.

 

“The lake’s this way…” Iko said to Kieh quietly, stealing glances at the man with the red tattoos.

“You like him?” Iko blushed again.

 

 “Yeah. His name is Miki…” Iko giggled a little and Kieh smiled. “Are you gonna court him?” Iko looked at him like he was crazy.

 “What? No! I’m not even a man yet and he’s courting someone else…” Kieh clicked his tongue.

“You’ve only got a few more months right? That’s not that long… I don’t think it would matter if you started now.” He looked at Kieh sincerely for a moment.

“You think?” Kieh nodded.

“Sure!” Kieh gave him a big grin and Iko blushed a little, glancing back at Miki, who flashed him a smile when they caught each other’s gaze. Iko quickly looked away and kept to himself for the rest of the walk.

We turned down the left hand path at the fork and it was a short walk to another opening in the ‘lake’ though it was really a lagoon. Three waterfalls poured gently down the calcium and lime washed walls of the hollow. The water spread out from there and created a kidney shaped lagoon with many boulders peeking out of the water and around it’s edges and sand covered the rest of the area, not hard sand like the desert but loose beach sand. The left side was highly weeded and inhabited by blue and green skinned people with fins and tails and webbed appendages and beautiful faces. Kappas. They sang sweet songs and purred and cooed at the men but they knew better then to answer to the kappas calls. Consorting with a kappa meant certain death. They stayed to the right of the lagoon.

 

Kieh was surprised when the men around him started to strip off their clothes. They hooted and hollered wildly as they ran, buck naked, into the water. Kieh glanced at Iko and found him fumbling with his boots caught in his pants. Kieh laughed quietly and unabashedly took hold of the end of Iko’s trousers and yanked them off. The boy laughed and ripped off his boots before scrambling across the sand and into the water. Kieh watched him go, admiring the way his backside was two shades lighter than the rest of his body. Then he started to undress, slowly.

 

The water felt good on his burns which were only starting to redden angrily but weren’t aching. He waded in slowly, chest deep, and then paused. He was surprised to find the bottom was covered in tiny rocks and sand and small lizard-fish creatures wiggled around his legs. Shuun yarped at the edge of the water, ran in a circle and then leapt into the water like an awkward bird. He surfaced and swam up to Kieh, his little fingers scrapping against Kieh’s shoulders as he pulled himself up and gripped onto him hard. Kieh laughed as he turned away from the shore and dove into the blue waters.

He could feel Shuun’s paws on his shoulders as he swam deeper, just because. Fear twisted in his gut but the feeling of the water soothed his hot body. It ached deep inside of him and the water soothed. He could see the others romping out of the corner of his eye but he just swam deeper until his lungs protested and Shuun wiggled on his back, wanting air. He turned and swam toward the surface again.

They both took gasping breaths, Shuun glaring at him, small flaps closing his nostrils so he had to pant through his open mouth. Kieh treaded water for a moment while they caught their breath. Shuun hissed at him when he saw Kieh gulp air for another dive. Then they plunged under.

The water was so crystal clear. It was about twenty feet deep here and Kieh swam almost straight down. The tiny fish-lizards were odd, with snapping jaws and big round yellow eyes that watched him. Their arms were fins but their legs were clawed and their tails spiked. They were scaled and webbed all over. Most were green and others were blue or purple. Something of dread stirred in his chest but he pushed it down. His own fear of water was over powered by the lure of it’s cold depths. He swam deeper.

Something caught his eye, something shiny and metallic. A chain, a chain of golden links and topaz jewels caught on a rock down below. He tried to swim to it but his lungs were starting to burn and he gasped, water coming into his mouth and flailed before rocketing back up as fast as he could. Shuun and him both coughed and sputtered at the surface.

“Stay here.” He choked to the kit and it whined before letting go of its iron grip on his shoulders. He took a huge breath and dove again.

His fingertips brushed the metal and it sparkled. Sparkled brightly and tantalizingly. He took it up in one hand and looked at it in the water. It was an anklet, a thin chain like the ones worn by the gypsies up north. He gripped it so it wouldn’t fall and swam back up to the surface. Shuun yarped at him as he climbed onto his head. He was too busy staring at the jewelry. It wasn’t extravagant or particularly valuable looking but he found it beautiful. Rich golden chain untouched by rust though no doubt it had spent a lot of time in the water and the topaz gems were cut in perfect tear drops. He took it and fastened it around his wrist so it wouldn’t fall because he did not wish to lose it. He could see a kappa eyeing him on a rock nearby, his blue skinned form naked and spread across the mossy surface of the boulder.

 “I wouldn’t take that if I were you.” It hissed quietly, and he blinked at it.

“Good thing you’re not me.” He replied smoothly before treading toward the shore.

 

~*~

 


	19. Jobless

He lounged in the shallows for a while, watched Iko and the other men splash about and the kappa stare at him and helped Shuun learn to become a better swimmer. The kit kept wanting to climb on him, up out of the water but the first time his little claws had drawn tiny red lines on Kieh’s skin he’d put an end to that. Mostly he looked at the anklet, which was wrapped around his wrist. After a while he felt the water stir behind him and someone sank down next to him. Someone with pale legs and a groin he knew well. He looked up to meet Mai’s sapphire gaze.

“Having fun?” He asked, his voice soft. It was a sincere question, not one filled with amusement of scorn. Kieh nodded.

“Good.” The other replied, handing coming to rest on his thigh and a cornflower mop resting against his shoulder.

“And you?” Mai squeezed his thigh gently.

“Ask something else.” He whispered, barely audible over the splash of the waterfalls and cries of the other men. Kieh thought for a moment.

 

“Why are you here?” Mai shifted a little and rested more firmly against him.

“Was looking for you.” A reasonable answer.

“How’d you find me?” Kieh leaned back, face to the sun and let it dry him. His yard long hair fell down his back and swished freely in the water like the flowing ink of a squid. His green eyes were chips of acid in the light of the desert sun. The air was cool as it drifted over his chest and his body shivered in response, gooseflesh puckering on his arms.

“Nala.” Mai replied simply. Kieh nodded.

“Iko gave me a tour.” He felt almost sleepy in the presence of his lover and couldn’t help but think back to the day he’d woken up with Mai on the beach on the res. He’d liked the way sand had felt beneath him. He wondered if that would ever happen again.

“That’s nice… are you making friends?” Kieh could feel himself think for a moment.

“Yes. I’ve got two.” Mai nodded but said nothing. Kieh could feel the weariness in his form, the urge to sleep overwhelming.

“Let’s go home.” He suggested quietly and Mai ran his hand down Kieh’s thigh and over his knee. “Let’s.”

Mai led them into the bath room where they found, to the left of the tubs, stalls with showers in them. They showered together, Shuun clinging to Kieh’s chest between them. He purred as Mai soaped his wet fur and nuzzled Kieh, glad for the warm water rather than the cold lagoon. Kieh purred when Mai finally pulled Shuun from his chest and plopped him down on the ground before pressing their bodies together. He couldn’t help but feel aroused by the touch of Mai’s hands, the feeling of his warm pale flesh pressed against his chest and thighs. Mai chuckled lightly.

 “Not now, hun. I’m too tired for that…” Kieh could feel himself blush but Mai couldn’t see. He simply rinsed them off, wrapped them both in a towel and led Kieh up a flight of stairs adjacent to the door they’d gone in that led straight to the second floor. They fell into bed together, simply towel clad and Shuun curled up at their feet seeing as there was no space between them. Kieh kissed Mai lazily but he could feel the exhaustion rolling off of the blonde so he simply pulled him closer and let him sleep.

Kieh, however, didn’t sleep. He didn’t sleep because sleeping meant dreaming and he did not want to dream again. The dreams weren’t his and he did not like them. If he dreamed he felt like the thing inside him was human and he didn’t want to treat it like a human. And it wasn’t a human. Or at least, he didn’t want to think it was. It stirred in him at his thoughts and he pushed it down. He didn’t want to think about it. It was invading his body and he wanted it gone. It seemed offended by that but didn’t push him.

He woke up later without even knowing he’d fallen asleep. Mai was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Kieh sat up, put his hand on Mai’s shoulder and felt him jump. Mai looked at him, eyes bloodshot and bruised, wet trails running down his cheeks. Kieh was up immediately, at his side, holding him. Mai sobbed brokenly against his shoulder, hands buried in his hair.

“What’s the matter?” He finally choked.

“No one will give me a job…” Mai’s voice was quiet but he hiccupped and sobbed against Kieh’s shoulders and Kieh didn’t want to admit that there was probably going to be snot on him too but he really didn’t care. He rubbed Mai’s hair down, kissing the top of his head.

“Why not?” He shook his head.

“I don’t know. Mira told them I was bad business…” Kieh could feel himself frown and the thing inside him stirred angrily. He agreed with that feeling.

 

“I’ll have to go on bounties which means we’ll have to leave…” Kieh frowned. He patted Mai’s head again and then shifted away. Mai leaned back and sniffed, rubbing his nose. Kieh stood up and pulled on his pair of clean trousers.

“I’ll be back.” He muttered and walked out of the room. Shuun followed along with him.

 

The tavern had only a few people in it, Skrym was sitting in the corner with Tikaho and they looked like they were arguing. Iko and the four men from the mine were sitting around a table laughing and his father joined them after talking to Nala at the bar. A dark haired man had just walked in and Kieh’s eyes caught what they were looking for. Mira, coming around the bar toward the man that had walked in. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him. He could see fear in her eyes. He stalked toward her, eyes fiery and lips twisted in an ugly snarl.

“How dare you.” The hiss slipped from between his clenched teeth and the thing inside him wiggled, wanting to rip her apart. He didn’t let it though. He leaned down until he was right in her face and she started to shake.

“Told people he was bad business huh? He’s not bad business here now is he? Not until he turned you down, huh? Is that the way it is with all your customers?” His voice was rising now, his anger spiking.

“They won’t fuck you so you spread rumors about them!? Is that the way it is!? What the fuck is that!?” She gawped at him like a fish and the tavern had gone silent. He hadn’t meant to bring his hand to her chest or to fist her apron within it, bring her face to face with him.

“You do that again and I’ll kill you.” Then he released her, stumbling back into Nala’s arms. Then he turned back to the stairs only to see Mai standing there, his face an expression of unreadable horror and underlying pride. Kieh followed him up the stairs. He hardly registered the other set of footsteps following them.

Mai’s lips were on his before he could start thinking, pushing him back into the room, kicking the door closed and pushing him down onto the bed. Their groins ground together and Kieh threw his head back, gasping and digging his fingernails into Mai’s back as he bit at Kieh’s jugular. Kieh gasped, knotted his hands in Mai’s hair and leaned forward to kiss him. He stopped dead in his tracks. Someone was watching them. Someone in the door way with moonlight pale skin, ebony hair and yellow eyes. Someone he recognized. Someone very angry. Mai looked at him, at the fire in his eyes and turned, gasping. “Jack!”

 

~*~


	20. Jack

He was beginning to wonder what he was doing. Mai had told him to give him time to explain to Jack -who Kieh was about to rip to shreds and he knew the feeling was mutual- and had sent him out shopping. What angered him worse was how he’d snapped at Iko when he’d asked to come along but the boy was still trailing him anyway. He repositioned his vest on his shoulder and glanced at the now silent boy. He sighed a little.

“Hey now I didn’t mean to be mean to you. So um,” He paused, looking at Iko who was looking at him searchingly. “Where’s the best place to get cigarettes around here?” Iko shrugged and pointed him toward a dry goods store. Kieh suppressed another sigh.

The lady at the counter was thin and nice looking, blonde haired and grey eyed. She smiled at them.

“Hi boys.” She greeted them just like she would any other pair of natives walking into her store. Kieh doubted she could tell one from another. Blind and stupid like her god wanted her so said the silver cross on her neck. He thought of his father’s wind knot sitting in his bag back at the tavern. Then he thought of Mai, sitting alone in the room with Jack. Then he got very angry but pushed it down. He knew Mai wouldn’t do that, Mai was his _shuntanka._ He wouldn’t do those things without Kieh’s consent.

“I need a couple of things…” He pulled out the list Mai had written and placed it on the counter for her.

“And a package of cigarettes, please.” He flashed her a grin and she forced one back.

 “Sure thing.” She said taking the list from the counter.

After going from there to the blacksmith to order horse shoes and to the gunsmith for bullets and, well, guns, and to the pharmacist down the way for who knows what else Kieh found himself sitting on a bench outside of the jewelers with Iko, his bundles and Shuun sitting at his feet, taking a long overdue drag on his cigarette he found he was a hell of a lot calmer then he’d been in recent days. He looked at Iko and Iko looked at him. He offered him the cigarette and the boy refuse. He tucked it back between his lips and took another long drag before leaning back against the railing behind him.

“So…” He started, knowing the boy wouldn’t talk on his own.

“Mai can get work up on the res, if that’s what he needs.” Kieh raised an eyebrow, then nodded. Iko looked down, his hands fisted in his lap.

“Did Mira really-?” Kieh nodded again. Iko whimpered. He leaned over and put his head in his hands.

“I never thought she’d do something like that…” Kieh shook his head.

“You thought wrong I guess.” And then the conversation was over.

 

He found Mai and Jack where they had been when he’d left them, sitting on opposite beds, facing one another, expressions pinched and voices curt. Kieh ignored the glare he received from Mai and took off his vest, which he disliked because of the burns on shoulders and probed a wound on his arm with one finger. It was a hole, straight through his outer bicep that was starting to heal.

“How did I get this?” He asked and Mai glanced at him. “You were shot. It was a while ago. I can re-bandage it if you’d like.” He shook his head, sitting down on the bed. “No, no it’s okay.” Then he reached onto the stand next to the bed and took up the ring there, his mothers and fastened the cord strung through it around his neck as he had been the past two days. Then he laid down, back to Mai and Jack and stroked Shuun absently when he curled up in the curve of Kieh’s stomach. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

“I’m very sorry, Jackal, but I obviously have feelings for someone else.” Kieh could feel Mai’s hand where he placed it on his bicep, the uninjured one. “I do, however, still have intentions for us to be business partners. If you would comply…” Jack snorted and Kieh could imagine the accompanying eye roll.

“You knew I loved you,” He snarled, “so you run off with some kid you hardly know the minute I leave? What kind of friendship is that? Where’s the loyalty? You could have warned me…” Mai sighed.

“How, Jack? I had no idea Kieh was going to come into my life. And you bet I’m damn happy he did. Jack, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for this to harm our friendship, alright? And frankly I need you. Kieh might look big but he’s a horrible shot.” Kieh suppressed the snort he knew was only pride. He’d never shot anything in his life. He’d never even handled a gun before. Mai was right to make that accusation. Jack and the man both chuckled.

“Alright. I’m just being a prick. So… this bed for me?” And they both laughed again.

~*~


	21. Hunger

Freedom. He could smell it. It was finally near. So close to the edge. All he had to do was push a little bit and… there! He was in control now. He sat up, blinked his eyes open and grinned. The kit on his lap yarped at him, then growled and he shrugged it away, toppling it onto the floor with a yelp. His companion stirred next to him, blinked intelligibly and then mumbled something. He grinned his full toothed grin and put his finger to his lips, drawing a small, inaudible gasp from the blonde’s lips and then slid out of bed, nostrils working the air. He leapt across the room to the door, landed loudly and unorthodoxly and hissed. This body was not used to his movements. He shouldered the door open and crept out into the hall.

It was dark, midnight dark as he slunk down the stairs, passed the empty and abandoned tables and out the front door. He stood then, hobbled a little and then straightened, walking like a normal human, though baring claws and fangs and the beginnings of a sprout of tail on his spine and scrub fur poking out from under his ebony hair. His eyes burned like fire. He walked down the street a short way, then cut into a gap between two houses, a sort of alley and followed it for a short ways, and then down another street and make shift ally.  

At the third he ran into a man, or a boy he assumed at the closer look. He was scarred across his face, though pretty, with nice clothes and beads adorning his hair. His eyes were silverish rather than dark brown and his skin was a nice caramel.  He was cute to say the least though he was obviously drunk, nursing a bottle of hard liquor and swaggering a little before he leaned against the wall. Something inside him stirred in recognition of this boy but he pushed it down as it had done him so many times. He knew his strength was slowly sapping away now that he’d taken control and he wouldn’t be able to again for a long time but he didn’t care. He wanted blood and he wanted it now, even if it was one of his own people. But this boy was drunk and smelled of sex and contempt. He was befouled, no respect for himself or anything else. He finally looked up at his stalker.

“What’chu want?” His voice was a grating whine that made his ears ache. He snarled.

“Gonna beat me up?” The boy slurred, taking another swig of amber liquid from his bottle. He looked him up and down.

“Or you want some lovin’?” This was more of a purr as he swayed toward his doom and the smiled that curled on the creature’s lips was one of evil. He raped Tikaho before he killed him.

 

~*~


	22. Explosion

He woke to screaming. Kieh sat up, feeling just on the edge of control with the thing lurking near the surface of his mind, right behind his face like a bad cold and took a moment to suck a deep breath and push it into the pit of his stomach. He looked down at himself. His skin was somewhat void of blood but it was under his fingernails and he could taste it’s metallic tang in his mouth. Jack at looking at him sleepily from the other bed. There was a scratching, a whining at the door and Kieh bounded to it, yanking it open. Shuun limped in, growled at him and then looked at him with an expression of realization. He yarped and scrambled up Kieh’s trouser leg into his arms. He let the pup lick his face. There was another crash down stairs, and a roar of outrage. Mai’s voice rang out above it.

“He didn’t do it!” He cried but was cut off as if struck suddenly. There was a lot of yarping and snarling as well as the muffled cries of others. Kieh glanced worriedly down the stairs and then to Jack, who was also looking slightly perturbed. They slipped quietly down the steps.

It was Mai and Skrym. Mai’d just taken a blow to the jaw and was stumbling back when Kieh and Jack arrived. Both immediately bristled but Mai delivered a well aimed kick to Skrym’s unprotected gut. The elf coughed as he tripped over a chair strew carelessly behind him. The spectators consisted of angry looking natives and Mira’s group along with a few townspeople. Their eyes were on the fight until Skrym looked up and caught sight of Kieh.

“Traitorous, filthy, disgusting bastard!” He crowed, surging to his feet and making a beeline for Kieh. He just calmly placed Shuun in Jack’s arms, shucked his vest and strode forward to meet him, his fist contacting with Skrym’s nose before he realized he’d put them up. The elf stumbled back and fell on his ass, knocking over a table as he went. He looked dumbfounded at the boy for a few moments as blood started to drip from his left nostril.

“I didn’t do it.” He breathed in the funeral quiet of the room. All eyes were on him, most shocked. Iko was the first to speak, dropping Miki’s hand next to him and striding forward tentatively.

“T-Tika says you did. You’re the only one that fits the description.” Kieh peaked an eyebrow.

 “And what description is that?” He could feel fear twisting in his gut. He’d been alright with killing white men because of all the natives they’d killed but Tikaho was a native and that made him sick, made him want to retch and cough of up all the blood and whatever else he’d ingested. He suppressed the urge to gag.

“Green eyes. Glowing acid green eyes. That’s all he could say.” Kieh dropped Iko’s gaze for a moment, feeling the pain he was radiating, the disappointment. Then he ran his hand through his hair only to find it dirty and matted. He let out a sigh.

“How was he injured?” He asked, his voice cracking, knowing every stare in the room was judging him and he knew he was guilty. Not him, but the thing inside of him. How could he explain that? Iko gulped a little.

“He was attack, ripped apart. He’s lucky to be alive…” The thing inside him surged with rage and Kieh grabbed the side of his face at the sudden exploding pain there. He reeled back, stumbling as the thing forced its way to the surface on the left side of his body. Claws dug into his skin and they screeched, two twisted voices becoming one in a demonic sound that chilled his bones. He dropped to the ground, writhing and twisting as fire alighted against his skin, though not real, right below the surface, mottled sand and cream fur sprouting from his pores and along his scalp, teeth creaking and groaning as he ground them together, sharp enough to cut the insides of his cheeks and lips, tears burning in his eyes and searing his skin, hair ripping away as he clawed at himself, trying to rid his body of the foul presence.

 _The time of sharing is over, Coyote._ It hissed in its twisted voice and he screamed again, thrashing, grasping for anything to rip it away. He convulsed, sat half right and started ripping fur from his side with one hand, fingers void of claws that couldn’t get a grip on the short scrub but he ripped at it anyway, his voice ringing out under the chuckling of the other, pain burning his trachea, searing his vocals and his sinuses and everything inside of him swelled as if he was going to burst and all he could think of was the agony he was in was familiar and of Mai’s beautiful face and how he would rip it apart when he saw it. Faintly he could hear someone calling his name before the world exploded and he drifted silently in the void.


	23. Wishes

He was warm. It was dark. He was comfortable, but he wanted to move. He didn’t want to move but was uncomfortable. It was too bright. He was cold. All these thoughts came in pieces, random bits of himself floating to the surface of his mind. He was in pain. That was always present. Sometimes he’d hear a voice, repeating over and over to him one word. He couldn’t tell what that word was. His ears weren’t working. He wanted to ask them to speak louder but his mouth wasn’t working. He wanted to smell the familiar scent of poppies and fresh air and the sea. He wanted to see the desert’s harsh beauty and the mountain’s high peaks again. He wanted to see a man, a beautiful man with hair like gold and eyes like the most perfect robin’s egg and a smile that made his heart ache. He kept having the same dream. They were in a garden of sorts, poppies all around and the man was running from him, begging him to chase but he never could. He could see his hands reaching, hear his voice calling, asking the man to wait, to stop, to at least tell him his name but in the end he would trip and fall rolling into the poppies and the man would walk back and lean over him and say with a grin like diamonds:

“Silly coyote. How do you expect to catch me lying on the ground?” And then he would look at his hands and they’d be sand and cream furred paws and he’d look up and be standing in the desert, a hare made of blonde fur staring at him from the shade of a saguaro. He would chase the blue eyed hare all over the desert until he caught him and all he wanted to do was hold him but when he looked down it was the man, all torn to pieces and the taste of his blood in his mouth. Then he’d cry and his tears would fill the whole desert into a beautiful green ocean and he’d fall down into its briny waters and sink deep, deep down into the inky black depths where he’d curl up and cry because he destroyed the only beauty in the whole desert and he’d spend the rest of his life there, trapped in those inky black waters, keening over a man whose name he didn’t even know. And finally, mercifully, he would drown.

His waking mind always knew that it was a dream but that didn’t stop him from thrashing about wildly, uncontrollably until a hand was placed on his forehead and the word would be repeated over and over and over to him until he fell asleep again.  This continued on and on for what seemed like an eternity.

 _I can smell._ The thought came slowly drifting down to him through the many layers of detachment he’d buried himself in. He could smell many things. Fire, decay, flesh, wood rot, sweat, waste, urine, blood, humans, sand. He could hear things. The creaking of wood, the swish of wind, the slow, bubbling breathing of a sick person, someone near dying. Voices farther off but not near enough to distinguish words. The slower, more rhythmic breathing of a person nowhere near death but sleeping.

Somewhere a horse snorted and scrapped the earth with its hoof. A dog barked. Or rather, yarped. He could, he found, see if he tried really hard to open his eyes, though his eyelids felt like they were being held down by sandbags. They creaked open and he could immediately feel them protest. But he could see. It was dark, but not black dark, rather a grayish dark that allowed him to see he was in a tent of sorts, a lodge made of long poles and stretched leather hides. There was a hole in the top of the lodge, at the very center where all the poles came together, where smoke drifted up to the stars. When he looked to his right he could see the mound of his shoulder, swollen oddly, the fire, the middle support pole of the lodge and another person sleeping in cot no doubt like his. He was young with a scarred face and hair chopped so that it hung to just below his ears. It was straight cut and very bad. His arms and body were covered in bandages, all looking clean with underlying pinkness. He was sleeping soundly and he registered that the boy had not been conscious in a couple of days or else he’d be more reactive to his sleep. Now he was just blank, the only indication of life coming from his being was the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He soon got bored of watching that rise and fall and turned to his left. He was greeted by the sleeping face of a man. The man from his dreams. Soft blonde hair haloed his head and his skin, though slightly dirty was underlying porcelain. His eyes flickered behind his lids and jaw was slack with dreaming. The man’s arm, he could feel, was laid across his chest, hand spread flat on his chest. He searched himself suddenly, inside of himself, looking for the presence that had once disturbed him. He couldn’t feel it anymore.

The man stirred, blinked and looked at him.

 “Kieh?” He didn’t see the man form the word because things were still filtering into him through his detachment but he recognized it as the word he’d been hearing over the past however long it’d been. He tried to form words but just coughed hoarsely and tried to spit, which ended with it dribbling down his chin. The man sat up, produced a cloth from somewhere and wiped his chin. He could feel his ears burn with embarrassment. He coughed again and tried to talk but his mouth was full of cotton balls.

“Water.” He croaked out finally and the man pressed a cup to his lips. He drank slowly, feeling the liquid slide down his throat painfully. His stomach immediately growled. He groaned.

“Kieh?” The man repeated, blinking.

“Is that my name?” The man gawped at him.

“Yes.” He nodded. Kieh. Coyote. He liked it.

“What’s your name?” The man looked at him sadly.

“Mai.” His voice cracked and a tear rolled down his cheek. Kieh reached up to wipe it off.

“Mai. It’s okay. Don’t cry.” He knew his voice was flat though, because he was mesmerized by how beautiful Mai was. And how much his heart ached when he looked at Mai. How much he wanted to touch Mai. So he did. He put his hands on either side of Mai’s face and pulled him down to kiss him, aware that his mouth probably tasted like shit but Mai didn’t care, he kissed back as fiercely as Kieh had started. Tongues danced and Kieh could feel the moisture of Mai’s tears against his cheeks. He ran his hands over Mai’s strong shoulders, down his chest and wrapped them around his waist, pulling Mai on top of him and sighing at the weight that settled on his groin. Flashes of memory came to him, of Mai writhing beneath him, of them moving together, bare chested, moans and sounds of pleasure mingling among them, sweet lips brushing over cheeks and eyelids and one word floating to mind. _Shuntanka._ Lover. Wife. Cherished One.

“I love you.” He whispered before he could stop himself. Mai whimpered and nuzzled his face; a sound of agony coming from within him like his heart was breaking.

“You don’t remember.” He murmured and Kieh sighed. He didn’t know if he was ready to name himself.

“I don’t now. But I will later. Don’t worry. Just stay with me now. Help me remember. Remember with me.” He could feel himself push into Mai’s mind, all the thoughts and flavors running through his head, memories of quiet mornings spent watching Kieh sleep, rubbing his hair and feeling a love for him so immense it brought tears to Kieh’s eyes. Memories of them, rolling in the desert sand, so happy with one another, Mai’s hand on his back, comforting him, Mai and him laughing, always laughing. Two rings, plain silver, one on Mai’s finger and the other around Kieh’s neck. He reached up, felt it there in the hollow of his neck and smiled. Mai blinked at him as he retreated from the man’s mind, his mouth in a small ‘o’. He was tired now. He wished to sleep.  He rubbed Mai’s hair down and guided his head onto his chest.

“Hush now. Dream with me. Remember with me.” And the man stilled, quieted and slept. So he slept too.

 

When he woke next it was light. He felt like more of himself, or at least he knew more of himself. He’d dreamed of the week and a half he’d spent with Mai and of before that, when he’d been young and lived in the mission with the kitchen women. He remembered Trine and being a whore and it made him angry and then ashamed and finally it just made him sad. His family was gone, he had nothing to go back to or go forward to. Other then Mai. He loved Mai. Adored Mai. He’d do anything for Mai. Die for him. But right now he sensed that Mai wanted him to live. So he did. He lived and he woke and he yawned. His mouth tasted like shit. He wanted a drink. Mai was sleeping on him. He shifted, tried to move the blonde to his side but he was too heavy and his left side felt like fire the minute he moved. Mai stirred as he moved, blinking blearily. He looked down at Kieh and then blinked again.

“Oh.” He muttered and then rolled off of Kieh and onto the right side of the cot. He took a breath and then sighed it out slowly, happily.

“Thirsty?” Mai asked in a soft whisper and he simply nodded. Mai rolled off of the cot, found the water and pressed it to Kieh’s lips. He took two slow swallows and sighed. His throat burned. He whimpered. Mai brushed his hair out of his face.

“It’s okay, hun.” He hushed Kieh but he didn’t want to. He wanted to tell Mai how beautiful he was and how much he loved him. He wanted to tell him his eyes shown like diamonds and his hair was the richest gold in existence. He wanted to remember. He wished he could. He wished he could remember everything.

 _Do you really?_ A voice chimed in his head, no one that he knew.

 _Yes. Yes, of course._ The voice chuckled. His right wrist started to burn, started to itch and it felt like something was constricting it.

  _As you wish…_ The voice was dripping with sarcasm as Kieh eyes started to blur, a burning developed in the spot right between his eyes, farther back in his sinuses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth, his eyes catching on something shiny around his wrist. The anklet, the gold and topaz anklet. Mai was looking at him worriedly before he gasped, a feeling like water rushing up through his nose and in behind his eyes making him gag, snort, try to push it out but he couldn’t. Images fluttered behind his eyes, images of his entire life. His parents, falling in love, conceiving him, praying for the gods to return. Something coiling inside of him tightly, his body offered as it’s vessel. His birth and childhood, the ginger haired boy with grey eyes and freckles that had given him his first kiss behind the barn at the mission, the priest, the dirty, dirty priest who defiled his mother before he had her killed, who used him until he was old enough to run. Trine, ugly, disgusting Trine that shunned him and used him and abused him. Four ugly years there, scraping by on addiction and willpower alone. The temple, the day he called the thing inside him up out of its slumber to wreak havoc on his life. And Mai, beautiful Mai, encompassing a week and a half of his life that seemed so much longer, so much love that he felt, and that love gave him the power to push the thing inside of him down, away, deep into it’s pit. He could still feel it, somewhere in his ankle and made sure of the constant pressure there, holding it that way. He remembered things now, not only his own life but one that belonged to something else, one that spent ten years in a cage fighting for his life and was saved by one man, one man with cornflower hair and blue-grey eyes. And freckles. The thing inside him stirred and he felt pity for a moment, but kept it where it was. The flood stopped and he blinked his eyes open, blearily and looked at Mai. And he was Kieh again, he owned his name and his self and Mai. He owned his head and his soul. He was himself again. And it hurt to remember after bliss, but in the end it felt good.

 _Nine more…_ The voice was sickly sweet before it disappeared. Mai was blinking at him.

“I remember.” He muttered, just soft enough for Mai to hear. Mai made a small ‘o’ with his lips and then kissed Kieh, kissed him gently and tenderly, tears rolling gently down his cheeks.

“I’m glad.” Were the words that left his lips.

 

A day passed. Then two. Kieh drifted in and out of dreaming. He dreamt odd things, parts of his life mixed with parts of the thing’s life. They were weird images, images of things like the view out of the window of his bedroom at the mission and the view out of a Karian tree house. First he was staring up at the twisted grinning face of the priest and then into the yawning maw of a dragon ready to eat him. Then he was running through the mountains, jumping the boarder and fleeing for his life, hoping to never see that godforsaken mission again and then he was racing through the Karian rainforest, Skrym at his side and the orc, Thrash, on his other, fleeing madly from the Karian mages, wanting his head. He kept hearing the phrase ‘World Eater’. He didn’t know what it meant or why he kept hearing it but it sent shivers down his spine. There was one dream in particular that kept coming back to his mind.

He was standing on a grey expanse of grass, on one side of him a shining forest and on the other was a rotting decrepit swamp. The flat grey expanse was eight feet wide and ran in a line for as far as he could see. He bent down and put his hands in the grass and pulled it up. Underneath were worms, what looked like black worms wriggling over a white globe. He put the grass back down and it went perfectly back into place and swayed with the rest of the grass in an invisible wind. He waited for a short time and then a man came out of the forest. He was tall, slim and very handsome with white-blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. He had tiny freckles like sprinkles of cinnamon across the bridge of his nose. He smiled when he saw Kieh. Or the thing. Or whoever’s dream this was.

“Why did you do that!?” He cried and the man’s smile turned sad. Kieh could see his hands grabbing the man’s shoulders and they were furred with claws and they scared him. But the man wasn’t afraid. He just smiled.

“Because I didn’t want to see hatred born in your heart.” He said simply and Kieh watched his hands fall away. The man just smiled as the dream faded and he always woke up thrashing around and sweating after that dream.

He’d stayed in that lodge for a week with only Mai and the unconscious Tikaho for company when Mai said it. Dreamer.

“That’s what they’re calling you. _Kiahta._ The Dreamer.” Kieh didn’t know why but he didn’t like that. He didn’t like anything now after a week of lying in a cot, sticky with his own sweat and hardly able to keep food down. His dreams were so intense that he cried out in his sleep and woke Mai, who was now developing dark circles under his eyes. And above that the natives here- he was on the Greyfoot reservation- were calling him Dreamer. It was a nickname most commonly used with the most intense shaman and even when referring to Shi’a himself. Kieh didn’t think it suited him.

“I want to move. I want to get up and walk. I want to see my dog.” He stated, rather, changing the subject. Shuun hadn’t been allowed to see him for fear that the kit would enrage him or that if the kit slept with him he would thrash around and hurt him. He wanted to see his pet though, because he loved him and wanted him to know that his master wasn’t crazy. The village shaman seemed to think differently. And until Tikaho woke up and he was able to clear his name he could only see Mai. And Skrym, who never talked to him, only sat next to Tikaho’s cot and muttered sweet things to him. He would trickled water down the boy’s throat but other than that he was getting no nutrition and slowly wasting away. Kieh felt so bad about the boy, slowly dying because of him. Sometimes, recently, he’d lay awake and will the boy to live. He liked to think it helped.

One day, not many after Mai had told him about being Kiahta, Kieh was pushing his hair out of his face, since Mai wasn’t there to do it for him and his eyes caught on the anklet around his wrist, the gold and topaz chain. He thought for a moment, back to the day he had wished to remember. He shut his eyes for a moment and thought good and hard about what he was going to say.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” He started, his eyes flying open. There was a boy sitting next to him, red-orange hair set atop his darkly skinned face, eyes bright and yellow, watching him. He had a pleasant smile on his fake pink lips. Two ears, akin to that of a fox’s sat atop his head and he was laden was strings and strings of gold and topaz jewels and chains. His arms were furred red from just above the elbow to his wrist where it gave way back to his skin and hands. He was wearing a saffron toned skirt. A fox tail swished behind him.

“Who are you?” Kieh blurted a moment later. The boy-creature smiled.

“My name is Kashin. But you can call me Shin.” His grin widened inexplicably.

“And…” Kieh paused, looking him up and down. “What are you?” Shin twitched an ear.

“A djinn.” He replied simply. A djinn. A wishing demon. Kieh looked down at the anklet on his wrist.

“Is this yours?” He asked holding it. Shin’s eyes followed it like a starved wolf on a hare. “Yes.” He hissed, reaching for it. Kieh pulled it away, glaring and Shin drew back.

“I want Tikaho to wake up.” He said and could feel the anklet tightening on his wrist. “And to be healed!” He added quickly. Shin looked at him.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He muttered and the anklet tightened inexplicably. He felt that pain between his eyes again, like someone pushing a circular iron down on the bridge of his nose and winced. He closed his eyes and waited for a moment. The pressure gradually subsided and he opened his eyes in time to see Tikaho gasp and sit up in his bed, clutching at his chest and looking around, wild-eyed. At the same moment Mai and Skrym entered, both looking red faced and angry but their anger dropped at the sight of Tikaho, awake, and Shin disappeared in a wisp of almost intangible smoke.

 _Eight more…_ said his voice in light of his disappearance.

“Tika!” Skrym exclaimed, racing to the side of the boy and embracing him. Tikaho gladly embraced the elf, tears streaming down his face. His eyes were on Kieh though and words were leaving his lips so rapidly that Kieh could hardly catch them. _“Kai’lin, kai’lin, kai’lin…”_ He was saying. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Kieh could feel himself growing hot under those words and turned his face away when Skrym silenced Tikaho with a kiss. Kieh smiled quietly as he looked away and felt Mai’s hand on his shoulder and looked up. The man was smiling down at him more warmly then he had in days. So Kieh smiled back.

 

~*~


	24. Together Again

Freed, Kieh was allowed to roam now. He would get up out of his cot, hobble to the door and lean on the lodge poles and watch the people pass by. The Greyfoot people were thin, sickly people. Their skin was sallow and pallid and they were hollow faced and hungry. There was one woman, she lived just across from the lodge and had four young children. She was swollen with pregnancy, but the rest of his was spidery thin and she looked ill. Kieh felt bad for them, all of them. Tikaho had explained that those living on the reservation were sick with pride and too stupid to leave. The men that worked at the mines were the only smart ones and they were shunned by the tribe leaders.

Finally Mai suggested they leave. He told Kieh that he’d found work to the east and that he and Jack were going to hunt out there. Kieh agreed instantly and was happy to see Meiko and Shuun waiting for him a short walk from the lodge. He was also surprised to find Tikaho and Skrym waiting for them. Mai smiled at Kieh’s surprise.

“They’re getting out of town. Skrym’s going to hunt with us.” He said and Kieh nodded exuberantly. He’d come to enjoy Tikaho’s presence in the time they had been together in the lodge.

“The village people tried to stop me,” Tikaho told him where he sat double on Skrym’s yerik, “but I told them I didn’t want to rot here like everyone else.” Kieh chuckled quietly, glancing back behind him at the village. Iko was standing in the shade of the lodge, watching him with an unidentifiable expression, Nala at his side. Both looked tired, bruise eyed and sallow faced. Iko looked more yellow then caramel and he had two dots freshly tattooed under his left eye showing his manhood. Kieh felt proud for him, that he made it this far. What scared him were the two slash tattoos on his right cheek, signifying he’d killed two men. Nala held one hand up, in a sort of wait/good bye gesture and looked at Iko, tugging on his arm. She said something but Kieh couldn’t hear her and Iko gave his head a sharp shake, then a nod. He turned away and walked back down the road away from them. Nala watched for a moment and then trotted along after him. Kieh frowned a little and looked at Mai mounting his palomino mare. Kieh rubbed Meiko’s neck and looked at Shuun patiently waiting on the ground. He frowned, thought for a moment and patted his leg. The kit jumped up, grabbed onto his pant leg and scrambled up onto his lap. Kieh patted his ears and looked to Tika and Skrym on his blue furred yerik and then to Jack on his bay gelding. Meiko snorted and tossed his sleek black head and Kieh squeezed his legs around the horse’s barrel to urge him into a trot. And they were off.

They were half way down the ridge when there was a clattering of rocks and a shout and they all looked back to see Iko coming down the trail, Nala bouncing along behind him on a fat little pinto horse. Iko was the one shouting.

“Wait! We’re coming too!” They stopped and waited as Iko pulled up next to Kieh. He grinned. “We’re coming too.” Kieh blinked and looked back up the ridge.

“What about Miki?” Iko frowned and shook his head.

“Got married. Wasn’t interested in me.” Kieh frowned too and the shrugged.

“Then come with us.” He said simply and they were off again, heading east.

 

They camped that night twenty miles outside of Red Ridge. Mai pulled Kieh away, a ways away from the others and made their own camp. They could see the light of the other camp fire, hear the others talking but could not understand directly what they were saying. Mai built them a fire and they ate a small meal, flat bread and cooked meat, and then Mai made out their bed roll, kept Shuun from entering it and beckoned Kieh to lie beside him. Kieh wasn’t tired really, but he went anyway, stripping off his clothes as Mai had done. Their skin touched, one cold and one burning up and Mai hissed at the contact, but pulled him closer. Their lips brushed as the man pulled Kieh atop him, twining’ their legs together, Mai’s hands pushed gently into Kieh’s midnight locks.

 _“I love you, Kieh.”_ Mai’s breath slid across Kieh’s skin like a warm summer breeze, sending chills up his spine all the way down to his toes. He could feel parts of him twitch in anticipation. But Mai’s hands stayed in his hair, his intense blue eyes stayed on Kieh’s deep green ones, so deep with feeling it made Kieh’s heart ache. Mai was hurt; his precious Mai was scared, so afraid to lose something. _Him_. He realized it like one realizes they are about to die when staring down the barrel of a gun and waiting for a bullet that never comes. He slipped his arms around Mai’s head, pulled him close and brushed their lips together gently.

 _“I’ll never leave you.”_ He breathed and felt Mai shiver the same way he had. Kieh dipped down and nuzzled Mai’s nape gently. _“Never. Never, never.”_ He repeated the words like a prayer, making them true, true in his heart.

 _“Why?”_ Was the next word Mai said. Kieh looked at him, looked deep at him and then smiled slightly.

 _“Because I can’t live without you.”_ He kissed Mai’s cheek and then down across his jaw and neck.

 _“Because you are my world.”_ He muttered to Mai’s collar, placing feather light kisses there. He ran his hands down Mai’s biceps and onto his chest, fingertips brushing two pert nipples. Kieh looked up, green eyes blazing with something new. Love. Mai’s lips formed the words but never spoke. _Say it._ They said. _Say it every day._ They pleaded. _Say it until I’m sick to death of it. Say it._ So Kieh did.

 _“I love you.”_ He said as he took one of those nipples in his mouth and the other between his fingertips.

Mai arched and gasped and groaned a little before settling back onto the blankets, eyes heavily lidded, mouth parted in silent pleas. Kieh sucked the nub in his mouth and laved his tongue over it, pinching and rolling the other in his fingers. He trailed wet kisses and licks over his chest to its partner and sucked that one until it was red and bruised before nipping it ever so slightly, pulling another groan from Mai’s throat.

 _“Kieh, please.”_ Mai moaned as he buried his fingers deeper into Kieh’s hair, gripping.

 _“Please, Kieh, make love to me.”_ Kieh’s heart throbbed and he felt himself smile into Mai’s abdomen where he’d stopped in his venture down his lover’s stomach. His lover. That’s what Mai was. His lover.

 _“I don’t know how.”_ He whispered quietly. He could hear the smile in Mai’s voice.

 _“Just do what feels right.”_ What feels right. This felt right. 

He continued down Mai’s stomach, dipping his tongue teasingly into his navel and causing the blonde to jump and exclaim something he didn’t catch before he got to his real prize. Mai’s manhood, haloed in his golden curls. It was a treasure to him, something gorgeous and wonderful. He wanted to please this part of Mai the most. It was funny. Years of practice finally put to good use.

He ran his tongue from base to head, Mai throwing his head back against the blankets, legs spread wider for Kieh. Kieh loved the pink flush that came over Mai’s cheeks, his chest and shoulders, his hips, when Kieh smiled at this part of him. He laved the head, ringed his lips around it and sucked gently, grasping the shaft and squeezing. He swirled his tongue around it, over it, slipping a bit more into his mouth to suck before pulling it out and swiping his tongue over it again. Then, in one practiced gulp, he swallowed as much as he could and inhaled.

Mai cried out, arched his back and grasped the blankets and came into Kieh’s mouth, unabashed. And Kieh took it, swallowed it like it was ambrosia. Because more than anything he wanted to please Mai. He pulled off slowly, dragging his lips and tongue over the softening member and smiled up at his lover. He placed intangible kisses across Mai’s skin as he worked his way from his hips to his mouth and when he got there he was greeted by lusty eyes and full pink lips. They kissed, gently, lovingly before Mai spoke.

 _“Please say you aren’t finished yet.”_ He breathed, blinking slowly. Kieh thought for a moment, about the throbbing cock between his legs and shook his head.

 _“Nope. Not done yet. You’ll have to talk me through this…”_ Mai smiled a little and his cheeks pinkened. 

 _“It’s not too hard…”_ He reached over and produced a jar of cooking oil from inside the pack beside the blankets.

 _“Sit up.”_ He commanded quietly.

Kieh did as he was told and Mai dipped his fingers into the oil before reaching down and slathering it over Kieh’s prominent erection. Kieh gasped at the cool temperature of the oil and the way Mai’s slender fingers worked him between them. Mai smiled at this, taking great care to drag his slick digits over and over the length of Kieh’s member, thoroughly coating it. Then he reached up and grabbed Kieh’s hand and brought it to the oil.

 _“Now you do me.”_ He said simply, smiling and giggling at the awkward expression on Kieh’s face. He guided Kieh’s fingers into the oil and then down his body slowly, passed his manhood to brush against something that made Kieh tingle in the pit of his gut. A small puckered ring of muscles that, when touched, made Mai lift his hips and hum quietly, unconsciously.

 _“Here. Do it here.”_ He breathed and Kieh blinked at him, at the flush running across his cheeks, making his freckles stand out and the flush returning to his length. He blinked, looked at the heavy need in his lover’s eyes and gently, so gently, pushed one finger inside of him.

Mai squirmed a little, clenched around Kieh’s digit as it intruded him and then relaxed as it rested, fully submerged, inside his body. Then there was the pushing of a second digit, slow and patient, to join the first. There was the application of more oil, the sound of Kieh’s soft breath whispering across Mai’s neck as he murmured sweet nothings to him but all the man could think about was that his lover, his one and only _shuntanka_ , was finally inside of him. And then he started to move. There was a slow drag of his two fingers pulling out of Mai and then a soft squelch and they returned. His toes curled, his back arched slightly and he sighed as they continued. A movement, slow and sure, steady, in and out, pleasure vibrating from that one area and moving into his manhood so that it stood proudly and made his lover smile. Then when they began to slide fluidly they left and were replaced by the blunt head of Kieh’s member.

Kieh was unsure. He knew this was how it was done but was Mai ready? He looked to the man’s face and as if he was physic he nodded. So Kieh pushed, gently, forward, feeling those muscles, so tight, move around him and with an almost popping sensation his head fit it’s self within Mai’s body. The man clenched, causing Kieh to gasp and shiver while Mai squirmed and they both leaned toward one another, panting. Their lips met and it was an electric communication. Kieh continued to press into Mai’s body. Mai continued to tighten around him, to squirm and gasp and grab at Kieh’s shoulders and hair, his back arching and lips clumsy on Kieh’s. The boy, hardly a man, was calm, slow, patient, the sensation welling up inside him intense but something he knew would only multiply if given time and that would diminish if rushed. So he pushed in, slowly, inch by inch until fully imbedded in his lover. Mai gasped, grasped Kieh’s shoulders and pulled his head up to hide it in his nape. He quivered, he tingled, and finally got used to feeling someone he so desperately loved inside of him. He relaxed and Kieh started to move.

He rolled his hips back, then pivoted them up and in a slow rocking motion, the first pull the hardest for Mai tightened again, fear spiking for a moment that Kieh would leave before he realized his lover was not going anywhere. Kieh pushed back in, groaning, nuzzling against Mai’s neck, pleasure spiking. He lost his resolve for a moment and thrust in, deeply, and made Mai cry out and arch his back.

 _“Again.”_ He whispered, something so little it could not be denied. So Kieh slipped out, gently, caringly, rolled his hips and thrust back in, though slower this time, to the same affect. He put that as his rhythm, slow at first, intermittent rolling and thrusting of his hips into Mai gradually getting faster as Mai’s cried became more insistent, his pleas harder to adhere to. But Kieh tried, he thrust in hard and deep and took Mai’s stiff length in his hand and pumped it, grabbed his hair and pulled it, placing lusty licks and bites across the side of Mai’s neck. And Mai rolled his hips with Kieh, pushing into Kieh’s every thrust as if wanting to swallow the other whole, nails dug into Kieh’s back so hard they bled. Their grunts and groans of pleasure became intermingled and louder, to the point where they could hear murmuring from the other camp but did not care. Kieh only thrust harder, faster, the wet slap of flesh against flesh filling the air and Mai’s cries as he tensed and shivered-

And unloaded into Kieh’s hand. Feeling Mai’s hot seed slipping over his fingers made him lift his hips, dig his feet into the blanket and dive in harder and deeper, shouting Mai’s name before he too buried himself deep within Mai’s body, climax wracking his body and he clung to whatever he could, the shivering, shaking, sated body of his lover, as he collapsed onto the blankets. Mai’s kisses were lazy against his cheeks, his words had no meaning to either of them as they pulled the blankets around them and embraced one another, Kieh’s flaccid member slipping quietly out of Mai’s dark recesses and both sharing a sigh of deep contentment.

 _“I love you.”_ Kieh whispered in the darkness.

 _“I love you too.”_ Came his lover’s reply.

 

End of Part 1


	25. Fire Child

Fire. Everywhere. Fire. Burning. He was burning. He could feel it. Burning his eyes, his ears, his flesh. He was on fire. Fire. Fire! Seven years old and all alone he sat in the crumbling, burning ruins of a town he’d once called home. Now it was burning and he was lying in the dirt, sobbing, all alone. Always alone. He’d always be alone.

A man came from the ashes, a man of forty or so years, young for his people with ash stained flaxen skin and golden eyes. His hair was long, silver and beautiful and his face was covered in scruff, not from neglect but fashionably. The man smiled, pulled him up into his strong arms and took him away, far away from the despair and squalor he grew up in.

Ten years and three months later he woke beside the man. Slowly, listening to his own slow rhythmic breathing mixed with the man’s bubbling wheezes. There was a hole in his chest, though small, it bled a lot. Around them were scattered the bodies of their fallen adversaries and he had lain beside the man where he’d been felled. He wept, silently, secretly, not wanting to distress the one he loved. His hands were covered in blood, mostly the man’s, and he had pressed them over the man’s heart so he could be sure it was still beating. Slowly, irregularly, it was. The man drew a shuttering breath, let out a soft sigh and opened his eyes, lifeless and dim, and gazed upon the face of his much younger lover. The boy he’d raised.

 _“Edime.”_ Beloved. The term of endearment most used by the boy slipped from the man’s lips.

 _“Edime, meash icnan d’kai.”_ Beloved, wait for me. The boy’s tears stained the man’s shirt and mixed with the blood pooled on his collapsed chest.

 _“Kimi ican Edime dai miscan.”_ Beloved, do not leave me. The man coughed and shuttered and rubbed the boy’s ebony hair was a blood stained hand.

  _“Meishkin.”_ I won’t. A false promise. The boy knew. And the man. They both knew this was the end.

“Rakshim.” The boy said his name like a farewell.

“Shi’a.” the man said his name like a term of endearment.

 _“Miedime.”_ I love you. A simultaneous spoken word, so sweet, as the man drew his last shuddering breath, his sallow flaxen skin sticky with the remainder of the moisture left in his body, once proud golden eyes dulled to raw amber, and let it out in a slow, contented sigh.

He dug a grave for the man, dug it with his own two hands. It took him two days to dig it deep and wide enough for his lover, and then he gently, caressingly, placed him within the earth. A soft kiss was given upon the man’s dead lips before dirt was pushed over him as one pushes a blanket over a child. Then the boy lay down beside the grave and slept.

 _“Na gee mi d’kai.”_ He whispered to the wind. You won’t have to wait long.

 

He woke to the bumping of a wagon. Tied up, bound around his wrists and ankles. His throat was moist, which meant he’d drank and his stomach growled almost painfully. He did not want to eat. He wanted to die. He looked up, to the head of the wagon and examined the man driving. A young orc, maybe twenty five, with earthen skin and small tusks. His eyes were soft and black and he held the reins of the wagon gingerly, almost carefully. His four digited hand was holding within it the slender hand of a young elf next to him, maybe forty, young for his people. He had silver hair and soft skin, golden eyes that radiated happiness. The boy’s heart ached for the man at the sight of this fake _edime._ Made him angry, made him thrash about.

 _“Hush now.”_ The fake spoke in the language of his mother, reaching out to cup his cheek.

 _“Hush now. We’ll be home soon.”_ But those words meant nothing to him. He’d never felt ‘home’. His life, he felt, was an unending void of waste and despair. This assumption, he’d soon find out, was correct.

 

~*~


	26. Healing

Summers in Rah, Kieh thought, were too humid. Summers in Yrthall, Kieh thought, were too dry. Summers on the two’s borders, he thought, seemed just right.

They’d stopped in a town called Iskavan two weeks ago. Situated right on the borders of Rah and Yrthall it was a lovely sea side town built among the hills and valleys and rocky shores of the state call Mir. The green waters of the Eivanian Sea lapped at the busy little town’s heels, it’s brick buildings covered in moss and cobblestone walks slippery from constant moisture. But it was a cool moistness, not one that clung to one’s clothes or matted one’s hair but a moistness that caressed one’s dry skin and soothed one’s aching feet. It was the kind that Kieh could drink when he was running and appreciate when he was lying in the dirt, trying to mimic Mai’s subtle stalking movements as they tracked some unseen prey. The earth radiated heat and the wind was there to cool him. This town, he thought, was peaceful.

Running along the sea side path, Shuun, now the size of a shepherd’s dog, at his heels. Watching the green waves crash against the rocks, the kappa that made their huts there, the merfolk leaping in the frothing spray, this place seemed more like home to him than any. Wind swirling in little eddies around caramel footfalls, legs strong, heart pumping, this place had healed him. When they’d first arrived, a fortnight ago, he’d been weak, exhausted, hungry and disheartened. The left half of his body still wrapped in itchy bandages and the right half sun burned and dry he’d fallen into the bedroll Mai had set out and slept for two days. When he’d awoken though, he’d been rejuvenated. Sure his arm and side were still bandaged and odd crisscrossing scars covered his leg and slashes along his jaw but he was healing faster in these two weeks then he had in the month it had taken them to get here.

He ran up the path, over the ridge and his bare feet tapped against the cobblestone walk leading into town. Shuun, molted once over now, trotted along beside, his long legs red socked and underbelly crimson, the beginnings of red tiger patterns starting to show under his still adolescent black fur. His ears were still as red as ever and eyes so yellow they rivaled that of a sunflower head. He still had growing to do before he molted his second time and gained his full adult coat and height but his growth could be seen quite prominently from the cat sized black kit he’d been only a month and a fortnight ago. He now stood level with Sahn, his mother and Mai said he’d get a bit bigger before his growing was over, seeing as he was male.

The streets were bustling and busy. Humans, elves, orcs and incubi went about their business up and down the main road, vendors booths packed with early morning shoppers. Kieh jogged up to one of the many food vendors, a young Elvish woman with pale wheaten skin and white hair whom he’d gotten to know over the past two weeks. She smiled at him as he bought a bag of salt fish and elk jerky and a pound of flour as par Mai’s instructions. She waved at him as he continued his jog down the cobblestone streets and back around down the seaside path. He passed again the kappas bathing and the merfolk playing and caught a glimpse of his djinn, Kashin, slipping behind a tumble of rocks after a particularly fair and beautiful kappa he’d taken a shine to. Kieh just snorted his disapproval and continued, back up the ridge and down the path, between the valleys and down the fields of peppers and cucumbers and okra and between the groves of pears into the twisting green the thicket of the forest, up over the hills and into a small clearing beside a fall of boulders, well concealed and easily defended was their camp. Bedrolls and possessions thrown all askew in their sloppiness, Nala having yet to return to camp and pick up after them, fire smoldering from that mornings breakfast. Kieh sighed and flopped down on he and Mai’s bed roll

He was in the process of brushing Shuun’s fur when Mai and Skrym returned. Mai had a belt of rabbits and Skrym was carrying two pheasants. Mai flopped down next to him, Sahn faithfully panting at his side. Shuun tried to get her to play with him but she snarled at him so he left her alone. Kieh leaned onto Mai’s shoulder and sighed lightly.

“How are you today? Scar’s hurtin’ any? Want me to change your bandages?”  Kieh made a noise.

“No. I’m fine. How was your day?” He mused as Iko and Nala appeared out of the woods. The sun was leaning toward setting now. Tikaho trailed behind Iko, still weaker then Kieh was. Kieh felt a stab of guilt but shook it off. Mai leaned onto him more as Jack came out of the woods, big black wolf with his pink tongue lolling. He sat down on Iko’s bed pallet and sneered at the boy as he sighed. It was no secret that Jack seemed to be interested in Iko, though the native was _not_ , however, interested in Jack. Iko simply moved to Nala’s bed roll to sit down. Tika took his seat next to Skrym and Nala started working on dinner.

Later, after they’d all bedded down for the night, Kieh lay awake. Mai was half asleep, his hands roaming Kieh’s chest, exploring all the new scars that were marking the left half of his body. His leg still was bandaged and his hip and a patch on his chest but mostly he’d healed. Tika, he knew, mostly had not. But the boy refused to just sit in his bed pallet, so he and Iko had gotten jobs at the labor yard in Iskavan and Nala had gotten one at a local pub. Kieh was still looking for a job, but most days he was hunting with Mai.

Mai’s lips brushed against his neck and he hummed. A sound, a muffled moan, came from somewhere else in the camp. Kieh smiled. He was glad for Tika and Skrym. Kieh shifted uncomfortably. He had to piss. Mai protested when he sat up but he promised he’d be right back. He stood up, stretched, and tried to ignore the movement in Skrym’s bed pallet. He shuffled out into the trees.

As he was replacing his trousers there was movement in the tree line. Something stumbled forward, pitched onto a tree, grasped it with one hand and bent over to retch. Kieh gasped, tied his trousers and went to the figure’s side. The man grabbed onto his arm and coughed something onto the ground. Kieh wrapped his arm around the man and pulled him toward camp.

 

The man coughed, fell to the ground and continued to retch and hack. Everyone was up at that sound, Tika giving a startled cry, Skrym cursing and Mai groaning angrily.

“What the hell?” Everyone just stared at Kieh and the man, who’d stopped retching and flopped over onto the ground, breathing hard. He was grasping at his stomach, trying to pull something out of his many robes. He groaned, keening, his long pale fingers grasping round object and pulling it up out of his silk wrappings. It was a cream colored oval object of lemon hue with charcoal gray flecks. He reached up, over his head, to push it toward the fire. Once it was there he simply sighed and closed his eyes.

It was silent for a long time, everyone just staring. And then, as if to signal everyone to let out the breath they were holding, Skrym said simply; “Ahuil?” and suddenly everyone was talking.

“Who is this guy, Kieh?” Mai sputtered.

“What is that _thing_ he put in the fire?” Nala mused, frightened.

 “Why’d you bring him here?” Iko asked, mildly curious. Jack snorted. Tika was whispering franticly to Skrym.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Skrym snarled, then crawled over to the man, holding his blanket over himself in modesty.

 “Ahuil? Ahuil is that you?” The man on the ground moaned.

“The fire. Keep the fire going.” Was all he said. Skrym glanced at the fire, at the oval shaped thing and nodded.

 “Okay.” Was what he said before he moved to collect his trousers.

“We need more wood. Mai, you should help me. Someone get him undressed, he’s burning with fever.” Then he got up and jogged off into the woods, naked, Mai tripping in his breeches after him.

Iko and Nala pulled the man over into Iko’s bed pallet and Tika helped them unwrap the black silks around him. Kieh brought a cool damp cloth for his forehead and Jack tended the fire. The oval thing, they concluded, was an egg. What kind of egg that was as big as Kieh’s head they did not know. The man, Ahuil, just mumbled intelligibly when they tried to talk to him. So they didn’t try. Mai and Skrym returned with armfuls of wood and Mai helped the elf build a sort of ring around the egg that soon caught fire. Ahuil watched them with glassy yellow eyes, smiling before he closed his eyes again. Skrym ordered them all to sleep them. Kieh didn’t mind sharing his bedroll with Iko.

 

~*~


	27. Relations

Morning was too bright. Kieh woke with cotton balls in his mouth. He’d give his left nut to wake up peacefully for once in his life. He was hot. Too hot. The blanket was crushing him. Mai’s arms were around his waist and Iko’s were around his neck. He could feel the boy’s face next to his, snuggled there like he was four years younger. Kieh felt four years older and wished he didn’t. Mai shifted, groaned and cursed.

“Why does my head feel like I filled it full of sand?” Iko mumbled something and nuzzled closer to Kieh. That made him feel uncomfortable. He leaned away toward Mai who was blinking sleepily. He looked at Iko, at Kieh’s semi-pained expression, and glared. He grabbed Iko’s shoulder over Kieh’s body and pushed him, hard, away from Kieh. Iko started, looked at Mai and Kieh and then threw his hands in the air.

“Sorry!” Mai growled and Iko scrambled away. It didn’t help Kieh that they were all naked and he was very aroused. He wanted a shower.

The river would do. A wide, slow moving river ran just south of their camp, passed the fall of boulders. This is where Kieh’s djinn, Kashin, slept most days. The river gave him easy access to the ocean and the kappas there. It also made him more appealing to said kappas. As a djinn he was not affected by the seduction magic of the kappas and thus wasn’t one of their main prey sources but both species found one another very appealing mates. In the shallow curve of the river on the sandy beach Kashin had pitched a lean-to tent of sorts, with various peach, orange and red silky drapes to conceal himself. There was a small fire pit smoldering outside and Kieh ignored it in favor of the water. He stripped off his trousers and waded in until he was waist deep, then sat on the sandy bottom as to wash his whole body.

The particularly fair and beautiful kappa Kashin had taken a liking to was sitting, washing his hair not far off on a boulder overlooking the river. Like all kappa his skin was a tone of green or other watery color, in this case a very light minty green and bore scales, soft, small ones, intermittent on his skin. His hair was long and luxurious, emerald green in color and his eyes looked to be silver in color, very eerie. His hands and feet were webbed and Kieh could see closed gill flaps running along either side of his neck and along his ribs. He knew kappas grew fins from their arms and calves when fully submerged in water. To see one close, for only the second time though, was intriguing. It giggled at him, a melodic sound.

He tried not to stare at it and instead tried to scrub away the memory of this morning with sand against his bare skin. There was an odd murmuring sound, high pitched like someone singing underwater and movement in Kashin’s tent. Kieh looked back at the shore to see the djinn peeking out from under various silky wrappings at the kappa, an expression of irritation on his face. He growled something at it and the kappa returned with a giggle as a purple scaled hand appeared on Kashin’s shoulder to pull him back into the tent. Kieh snorted at this.

After bathing he sat on the shore, still naked and wet, drinking in the early morning sun. It felt nice against his scars, which were oddly cold most of the time. The sun breathed life into him and the wind brought the scents of sand and water to his nose. It was calming to be here, peaceful in this place, good for healing.

He felt a weight on his legs, like someone had sat on him, and assumed it was Kashin. He was about to open his eyes when he felt lips brush his own. Mai. He should have known. His lips were tentative, brushing Kieh’s again. Kieh kissed him back lazily. They had time, no need to rush. Their tongues mingled. He tasted odd, not like he usually did. He usually tasted of mint root and other herbs he ate, claiming they were good for him. Kieh didn’t like them but he was okay with the taste in Mai’s mouth. But today he tasted like meat and like he’d been breathing dust and salt air. His kiss was also somewhat sloppy, as if he was… inexperienced. The moan that sounded made Kieh’s eyes fly open.

“-Iko?!” The boy jumped, blinking at him, startled. He was equally started. They sat there for a tense minute, Kieh naked and surprised, a deep blush painting Iko’s cheeks from where he sat on Kieh’s lap. Then suddenly his face went from startled to hurt and afraid. He leapt up and raced up the bank and into the woods, hardly time for Kieh to turn around and call

“Iko!” In a lighter, more worried tone.

Iko wasn’t in camp when Kieh returned. It was only Mai, the man- Ahuil, and the egg. Mai was sitting on the bed pallet cutting meat off the carcass of a rabbit from the day before. He looked up and smiled at Kieh, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth. He moved the meat away and patted the blankets, motioning for Kieh to sit down. Kieh sat down and Mai’s arms wrapped around his neck, his lips against his nape and a small sigh escaping his lips.

 _“It’s been a while since we were alone…”_ Mai murmured huskily. Kieh’s heart leapt into his throat.

 _“It has.”_ He replied nervously. Mai pushed him down onto the blankets, his leg sliding between Kieh’s. Kieh instinctively wrapped his arm around Mai’s waist. Their lips met and he almost grimaced, wondering if Mai would taste Iko in his mouth. But Mai didn’t. His arms traveled down Kieh’s chest, his side and up under his shirt. Kieh shivered. They hadn’t touched like this in a while. He pulled Mai closer, over top of him and deepened their kiss. Mai’s thigh ground against his groin. His breath hitched, his skin got hot and he felt Mai moan against his mouth.

 _“Kieh, I’ve missed you.”_ He muttered, breaking their kiss. Kieh’s hand found the back of Mai’s head, entwined it’s self in his hair and guided him back down to the other’s mouth. Mai’s tongue danced with his. But somehow, this felt wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this, not after what just happened. He felt himself grimace, and inexplicably, turned his head. He could feel Mai’s puzzlement in the tautness of his muscles, the way his touches instantly receded. He let Kieh go, sat up and moved away, back to the rabbit carcass. Kieh too, sat up, looking at Mai’s back, shoulders stiff, hunched slightly, his movements harsh and not his usual grace.

“Mai, I-“

“I get it. You’re not in the mood. I understand.” He cut Kieh off, with decisive slashes with his knife.

“But, Mai, you don’t-“

“Yes I _do._ ” He insisted, his shoulders tensing more, his hair seeming to stand up.

“You think I’ve never been turned down before? You think I’ve never told a lover _no_?” Kieh frowned at Mai’s back, watching him saw away at the rabbit.

“But that’s not it, Mai. It’s not that I don’t want to…” Kieh could feel himself frowning, deeply, the sort of whining edge in his voice and Mai snapped.

“Then what-“ _snick._ Mai looked down, as if surprised, to see the pads of two of his fingers sliced open and his knife bloodied. His mouth dropped open, like this wasn’t a natural occurrence and he looked at Kieh. He started stammering something about this being Kieh’s fault and how he was mad and this shouldn’t have happened and Kieh just rolled his eyes, grabbed Mai’s hand and stuck his two bleeding digits in his mouth. Mai’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

“Now it’s really not what you think.” Kieh mumbled around Mai’s fingers as Mai rifled through his pack for a bandage.

 “I just…” He paused. Did he really want to tell Mai about Iko? No.

“I just saw Kashin this morning. And he and the kappas…” Kieh shivered. Mai looked at him, almost amused.

“Well, that would put anyone off.” Kieh tried not to feel relieved. He felt oddly… hungry, with Mai’s blood in his mouth, a salt-rust flavor that he actually enjoyed slightly. He was glad to just sit there and be content, but something was knawing at him. And that something happened to walk into camp at that very moment.

Iko stood there, frozen under Kieh’s curious gaze, arms full of firewood. Mai only gave him a passing glance. But he knew what Iko was seeing. Him, his lover’s digits in his mouth, Mai, totally relaxed. It was a comfortable scene, not normal but not seemingly odd for a couple. But Iko was seeing it far differently. He was seeing Kieh, someone he had feelings for, with the hand of another person, in his mouth. It had to seem sensual in some way, for Iko. And Kieh knew it, and he pulled Mai’s hand from his mouth instantly, though there was an audible _pop_ when he did so, that made him cringe.

Iko shook himself a little, looking away, and knelt to stack the fire wood. With that, the man, Ahuil, stirred. Mai found the bandages and Kieh stood up, to go to the ill man’s side.

“Water.” He croaked quietly. Kieh nodded, motioning for Mai to hand him his canteen. He took it and unscrewed the cap, bringing it to the man’s lips. He swallowed fervently, and then fell back and sighed.

“My baby?” He asked suddenly, as Kieh had begun to move away, thinking him back to sleep. The man’s hand was burning, like steel around his wrist.

“My baby.” He said again, his deep amber eyes locked on Kieh’s. Kieh gaped for a moment, glancing at the fire, which blazed around the egg.

“It’s, uh, fine.” The man turned his head, following his gaze and smiled slightly.

“Good…” He trailed off, his eyes drooping. His grip loosened on Kieh’s wrist and the boy moved away, sitting back down near Mai. He flopped back, putting his arms behind his head, a small sigh escaping.

“Mai? When is everything going to be normal again?” Mai seemed startled by the question, then looked back at Kieh, putting a comforting hand on his thigh.

“I don’t know, love. I don’t know.” Was his sincere reply.

 

~*~


End file.
